Hand of Ice: Pride of the Rat
by General Wyvern
Summary: BOOK ONE: Peace is a euphemism. Though one fight is over, another one will always begin. For Garden, there will never be peace, as it is threatened by an inside source, and the hero of the Sorceress Campaign is slowly going insane...
1. First Dismissal

1

First Dismissal

_I used to think that the day would never come;  
I'd see delight in the shade of the morning sun.  
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near;  
To my childhood I lost, replaced by fear.  
I used to think that the day would never come;  
That my life would depend on the morning sun._

"True Faith" by _New Order_

A depth of unimaginable proportions had been met. It was serene and calming to be drifting around in some dark crevice, not really going anywhere, but going somewhere all the same. Shadows and flickers of images came from beyond the recesses of reason and vision. To have shape, but not seen. To be heard, but not to listen. The images came in faster, at a more furious pace. A silent figure perceived them all with a compassion that no mortal could ever expect to meet.

A name came to that figure from the deep. Was calling him, taunting him, registering his existence for him. But the name held no meaning, just a one-syllable word muttered by people to address him by. Squall had no meaning, nor did it matter that he had lived with that title for his entire life and cared greatly for it.

He drifted about the chaos, virtually shapeless. Six thin, and sinuous wings protruded from his back, glowing with old embers about them. They swayed in the writhing darkness about his bare and emaciated form, covered in acidic dentacles. The images before him began to take a more obvious shape. The shapes held names he knew, faces he had seen, but they did not have to be spoken, for the Namelessness to know them.

The once serene images began to take a more profound shape. Melting before his darkened eyes, the runny wisps of colour sank to a maroon hue. The black conjured shape, a figure of a ratty cloak with a feline head appeared. Red blotches had converged under the torn fringes of the cloak, shaping them into a long taproot form that squirmed and swayed as if it were another limb. Eyes had appeared on the face, red, and deep in depth, they appeared as funnels that probably went straight to the brain. Flailing about at her sides were her darkened hands. They looked like they emerged right off the arm of the cloak, instead of from underneath. And at the end of each of the five fingers, were claws the size and edge of carving knives.

The cloak hissed a line of nonsense sounds and garbles. A loud snapping sound, as if made by a thousand guns firing at once, sounded all around. The blackness gave away to a red tunnel, stretching out into the black. In the centre, where the two hovered, the tunnel appeared as glowing red piping. The form referred to as Squall writhed and sputtered, coughing up his own frozen blood as the thoughts of tortured demons invaded his mind, bringing unspeakable horror behind hidden messages. The Namelessness laughed, showing off a pair of venomous viper fangs, highlighted by seven pointed tongues, each glowing red. She spoke more gibberish, then, shoved her serrated claws into the heart of the Squall form. The winged figure fell to the cold, iron ground. Blood was now flowing freely out of his thin lips. He looked up to see the dark wraith, with her infinite, red eyes. The wraith held in her hand a heart, not disfigured, or stabbed in any way, but still beating, and screaming. The red taproot of the beast began to meander into the metallic pipeline, as the red encircling it began to pulse, waxing and waning like a futile heartbeat. Rhythmless, it was, much like his own heart, that couldn't keep up a steady beat outside of its owner. The root that embedded into the pipeline shot out of the iron casing, spearing the non-existent air at every angle. One stalk had run itself right through the winged entity, entering through the side of his rib cage, and coming out the other end. No blood came out, as it had all gushed out of his mouth.

A flash of white appeared, along with an indescribable face. Then, no more rang out. Not even the serene images. The pipe had disappeared.

§

"Hey! He's waking up!" A hazy voice echoed before him.

The darkness receded before him, giving way to pure light. The name that was once detached from his being came slinging back. _My name is Squall. I must be dead. Oh please let me be dead!_ His mind spoke, and continued to speak with his heavy Alcauldian accent, even though his tongue wasn't in use.

Just when he thought the white was impenetrable, two dark blotches invaded its purity. The anger Squall felt at the intrusion of such dirty marks. _Beat it. You don't belong here._

§

A girl with the soft, black hair of dark satin looked over the weakened form of her love.

_Oh, Squall,_ she thought with worried hurt. _What possessed you to do this too yourself?_

He was, of then, placed on a bed in a small infirmary room. A white sheet was placed over him up to his shoulders. A heart monitor had been hooked up to him, as well as an I.V. that was stuck in the back of his right hand, and tapped firmly in place with scotch tape.

The girl had found him in the most unusual place. A dry, desolate setting that seemed to have manifested out of nothing. In front of her was Squall, lying in his own blood. She had hoped he was alive, even called out his name, but didn't respond regardless. It wasn't hard for her to see that the blood was all coming out of his left wrist, and a sabre that lay beside him was sprawled in a manner that it had been thrown. The sharpened edge of the blade was only lightly spattered with blood, meaning it only dealt one blow, and an accurate one. The whole episode of rescue and rushed conversation passed quickly as she had been fortunate to run into the help of her closest allies, whom had come out of the abyss of time compression to help her. No memory remained, only her concern for the unconscious boy. When they had returned, everyone was worried, and so he was taken into this infirmary.

On the left side of the still form was a shorter girl with dirty bronze brown hair. Short, but curled up at their ends in one large wave.

The form in front of them started to moan.

The shorter girl looked down excitedly, clapping her hands vigorously. "Hey! He's wakin' up!"

The two girls looked down at the young man. His eyes fluttered open sluggishly. The icy blue orbs were marred with bloody red shades. He groaned once. His eyes fluttered lazily for a second, it appeared he was having trouble focusing.

Slowly, the dark haired girl, known as Rinoa, brought her hand down upon Squall's cheek, only lightly touching the paling flesh. In response, Squall jerked his head towards the woman. With the fuzzy silhouette still hiding her true image to him, the young man felt scared at the small contact.

_Who are you!_ Raced his mind, _where am I! What did you do?_ Attempt to move proved useless, he was anchored in position by restraints. Restraints that were, no doubt, attached while he was under.

_Did that cloaked wraith put you up to this?_

From above him, Rinoa became worried over Squall's reaction. His head snapped towards her touch. His pupils dilated, swirling about in their sockets in rapid burst, his breaths becoming rapid and shallow.

From beside the smaller girl, the heart monitor went wild. She turned towards it with annoyance and began to pound on it.

"Dr. K.," she called, in a squeaky, girlish voice, and a Nywll accent. "Something's screwy with this monitor."

A rather loud whisper came from outside the small cubicle. " Oh, crap!"

In rushed a plump, middle-aged woman in a white medical smock. Dr. K., she had just been called, and it was true, those were her initials, but her full name was Kadowaki, and her current responsibility was to her ailing patient.

Rinoa moved out of the doctor's way as she came up beside her.

"How did this happen!" She asked the younger woman.

"I don't know!" Squeakily protested she to the doctor. "I just touched his face, and he tensed up!"

Not giving it more thought, Dr. Kadowaki took hold of Squall's bare shoulders. "It's okay, Squall! It's okay…" she repeated similar small phrases of optimism until he calmed down. To the patient, the slight jarring on his shoulders seemed to breach the smoky haze. By a little bit, his regenerated sight could now make out simple colour. He wasn't dead, as he had hoped. Knowing these figures, he could make them out to be his old physician, Dr. Kadowaki. The wavy, auburn brown hair of Oh-oh,-Here-She-Comes Selphie Tilmett glaring over him with a burning, sunbeam smile. And the blue and black hues of Rinoa. His bloodshot eyes were immediately locked on her face. He tried to smile, but it hurt, literally. So it was that the smile was short lived.

_I thought I had lost you. But you came back. You truly are a goddess._ He thought with a bit of ecstasy.

Groping his throat for a voice, Squall managed to hack out a name. "Rinoa." His voice was stiff and scratchy, the rolled 'r's of his Alcauldian accent were greatly weakened. The girl responded to him, lowering her face closer to his, not forgetting to get Selphie's own smiling face out of his view.

"Hey!" Piped the neglected girl, "I was there!" Her whine went ignored.

Squall continued to call out the name of Rinoa, as if she could only find him by his voice. She calmed him down with a few shushes, still aware that he was probably still a bit shaken by that last touch.

"You lost a lot of blood," she started, still, with a cautiously soft voice. "You cut your wrist." She spoke in a classical Galbadian accent. The last few words, she said with a little regret. Squall couldn't quite make out the expression on her face, but she new that she was saddened by the tone of her voice.

"But Rinoa," he started shakily, "I thought I'd never see you again." _I thought it was the only way to see you again._

"Yeah," started Selphie with her usual enthusiasm, "you lost more then half your blood, n' that nasty bite mark you got from Griever didn't help anythin'. Honestly! I didn't think you were suicidal. Homicidal, maybe, but you got to draw the line somewhere, and you seamed responsible enough not to kill yourself. But you know, now that you'll have to wait for a donor, we got some black stuff from Esthar. They say it's synthetic blood that you can have until we find you some real blood, but they say it can only keep you alive for a couple of months before it's no good and that it doesn't give you the same zing as real blood. So really, you're goinna feel like a miserable pile o' crap for a while 'til we find a match.

"Dr.K. also stitched that bite mark up for you, but says that she doesn't know what the hell it is because it's glowin' green and stuff, and doesn't smell like it should, and that she may have to amputate it."

"Whatever." Squall choked, still looking at Rinoa, who was now looking at a giggling Selphie.

"Really girl," replied Rinoa in disbelief towards the excessive talker, "I don't know where' you put all that lung power?"

"'Tis a gift." Answered the smiling girl.

What Selphie had said wasn't really bothering Squall at all. Him losing much of his blood, having to take some artificial junk, and the bite mark that his own creation gave him. He remembered how Griever took a diving lunge at him when he tried to run away, biting his right shin. The Guardian Force did not shake him like a dog would have, but had kept hold of its pray, just as Squall had chosen it to do. Letting go just as soon as he drove his weapon into its eye. His leg sure looked pretty gross. The rest didn't know, but the effects of the venomous bite of the creature; was narrated by his younger, twelve year old self.

_It'll leave a glowing residue that changes colour from blue, to green, to gold, depending on the environment around the wounded victim, because its drool contains the power of the sorceresses. It will never fully heal, and will leave a nasty scar. It'll smell like permanent marker because of the poison that hurts both body and mind._ Ah, yes, but he had been a creative boy. It was very likely that he wouldn't have given Griever those properties if he had known that they would be used against him one day.

Not many people knew about this creation. Even when they saw it with their own eyes, Squall didn't say a thing, and neither did Rinoa. It still remained a secret between the two of them, and there was a lot more to Griever then he had let on to Rinoa. Much more.

Squall stopped his incisive daydreaming when he felt a tight grasp envelope around him. Selphie was giving him a vigorous bear hug, and nearly choking him in the process. He had, sluggishly, tried to push her away with his own strength, finding that he wasn't tied down, but had just been to weak to lift his limbs in the first place, and still was weak. He did, however, manage to hit her in the side.

_The Mighty Lion._ Rinoa thought sarcastically, with a bit of a laugh as she watched Squall trying to squirm out of Selphie's 'deadly' grasp. The dark haired girl knew, that that would be the only time that anyone would get to hug him. At full strength, he could have drove her head first into an open dumpster.

With no hesitation, Rinoa hugged the young man as well. Squall didn't struggle as much with her, then with Selphie. It was no wonder, either. He was less attached to that tiny juke box then her.

Selphie let go of her squirming victim, much to Squall's relief. "Hey, I almost forgot." She said excitedly, looking down at the two still holding each other. Turning to the door, she cupped her hands over her mouth, yelling: "HEY! HE'S AWAKE!"

"Rinoa, make Tilmitt stop talking." Squeaked Squall as she let go of him, setting him back down on his bed pillow. It wasn't likely that he was joking. He wasn't smiling. But then again, he didn't smile a lot. And probably couldn't if he tried.

The door burst open, but instead of Dr. Kadowaki, there were three different people. The first to enter was Quistis Trepe. A stern woman of eighteen who took no guff. Her golden lochs were tied up in a loose bun in back of her head, but she let her bangs hang down past her shoulders. Trepe took a stand beside Rinoa.

Following her in was a taller guy with long, honey brown hair, tied up in a ponytail. He wore a Western attire suit, complete with cowboy hat, overcoat, and chaps, probably to make him look like more of a loner to everyone. His name was Irvine Kinneas, and he stood next to Selphie.

The last to enter was a smaller boy of seventeen, the same age as everyone else in the room, excluding Quistis. As blonde as he was dumb, his short hair was spiked up in front, and he harboured a simple black tattoo on the left side of his face. What it was, exactly, was beyond everyone else. Whether it was a form of a dragon, fire, or thunderbolts was anyone's guess. He was known as Zell Dincht, Idiot Extraordinaire, and he stood next to Irvine.

"How's it hangn' man?" Zell asked his fallen comrade with genuine enthusiasm. His voice was thick with a Balambese accent. The 'h's that were pronounced, sounded like he was spitting, as was general in the Balambese language to 'spit' out the 'h's.

"Up yours." Was all Squall replied. Not surprising banter in the least. Even Zell couldn't argue that he could have gotten more out of him.

"Say," started Irvine, "Wha' wuzzit like being unconscious?" the question was obviously directed towards Squall, and was cloaked with a heavy New Galbadian accent. "I would have asked Rinoa, but, like, she didn't attempt suicide, so it maybe a different experience."

"Irvine," Rinoa hissed, "that was a very insensitive question."

Irvine started to defend. "Hey! Hey! Easy Doll, I'm just curious. I say, if you can lighten the mood, why not, like do that."

"How's that lightening the mood?" She spat back.

"Well, it's like…like…um…not concerning the…um. Touché Rinoa." He turned back to Squall.

"Sure is!" Rinoa snapped, "and call me Doll again and I'll sick Squall on you!"

"What! You goinna sick that on me?" Joked he, pointing down at the invalid man.

In response, Squall tried to lift his arms to strangle Irvine. But, to no avail, he couldn't get his hands above his chest.

"Screw it." He quipped weakly, letting his arms fall back to their original position.

"Hey, Squall, " began Quistis in a calm voice, "I know you won't give a damn, but we're throwing a shindig in honour of your killing Adel."

"What about Ultimicia?" Zell asked.

"She's in the credentials, too. But I hardly think that killing a woman who isn't even born yet worth celebrating over."

"She looked pretty mature to me."

"Yes, but we were in the future."

"How the hell did we get into the future?"

"Time compression, you dolt!"

"Oh, yeah." Zell remembered, scratching his head.

Squall looked at the blurred image of Quistis. "Garden parties suck." He croaked.

"Yes, we know how you feel about them," defended Quistis, "but you know, some people might actually like them."

"Do you?" Asked Irvine with a curious look.

"No, but somebody could."

From across her, Zell started to chuckle. "Yeah," he snickered, "good one Quistis."

"I've got a new camcorder for the party," started Selphie, "don't know what the heck it's called, but I heard that its colour resolution is next to nil, and that it weighs a tone, but I got it for three hundred gill, which makes it all worth it."

_Selphie, your optimism scares me._ Thought Squall.

"And that's not all," she continued. "We're getting the Galbadian Garden students since their garden took a nose dive into the ground. With the money we made from our last mission, we can now afford to get a high definition TV for the common room, not too mention a couch that actually has cushions. And also…"

Rinoa finished off her sentence before the girl rambled on into next weak. She placed her index finger on her closed lips, indicating silence and pointing down towards Squall, who had fallen asleep.

"Gosh, I wish I could conk out like that." Murmured Quistis.

Rinoa looked towards her. "I guess loosing over two pints of blood will do that to you…or is that four pints that's half?"

Selphie looked down at the sleeping figure. "Aww, he looks soooo peaceful." She lowered her head so she could look at him closer.

_What's up with you, girl?_ Rinoa thought, with just a bit of jealousy. _Haven't you seen a sleepin' guy before?_

The whole room went quiet as they all looked at Squall. His lips were moving, as if speaking, but no words came out. Selphie leaned closer to hear them. Rapidly, he snapped his head towards her, similar to what he did to Rinoa, but added a hiss. His mouth gaped open as if to bite into her face. Everyone pulled back, but not before Selphie did. A gasp from the Tilmitt girl could be heard when she saw Squall's eyes open wide, irises completely shut, hiding the pupils. The spectacle only took a moment before his mouth laxed and his eyes closed.

"Bad dream." Dismissed Rinoa, looking down at Squall, who continued to doze away.

Zell glared at the speaker with an unsure look. "That must have been some dream." He leaned past Irvine and Selphie, with none of them being the least bit pleased of his butting in.

Squall had started mouthing words again. None knew what he was saying but Zell. Out of the five standing, he had self-taught himself to read lips. On odd thing for Zell, to learn something by himself.

"_Eldi i mrünir svaka vri tnung? Duristhi illa._" Whispered Squall, in Alcauldian.

"Who the hell's Cloak?" Zell asked in general, not expecting an answer as he gazed down at his friend with a puzzled look.

But, he did get a response. With lightning reflexes, Squall had grabbed hold of his neck, squeezing his throat with unexpected force.

The action startled Zell. "_HAEDA MOTÉ!_" HOLY SHIT!

The heart monitor started to go wild again. Outside the door, one could hear another loud whisper of "oh, crap", and in rushed Dr. Kadowaki, again.

The doctor and Irvine yanked Zell away, as Rinoa and Quistis withdrew Squall's murderous grip.

"Friggin' hell," he gasped, rubbing his throat, "he's got a good grip for someone who's lost more then half his juice." The heart monitor slowed to normal as Rinoa lowered Squall's arms.

"Is that normal?" Selphie asked Dr. Kadowaki.

"Well, that dose of electrical magic I gave him to steady his heart must have given him the muscle spasm." The doctor answered.

_Electrical magic?_ were Quistis's thoughts. _You never told us you had any kind of magic, not alone electrical! Unless…_ "You use GF?"

"Of coarse I do. Everyone in this school does. The Headmaster, the staff, the cafeteria workers. Even the plumber has one."

A GF was short for Guardian Force, and was the backbone of their mercenary force: the SeeDs of Balamb Garden. An individual 'junctioned' with a GF, to acquire the power that he, she, or it, contained. They were what made the SeeDs appear super human to the rest of the world. The downside was a theory that stated that the junctioning of a GF could result in memory loss. So far, it was just a theory, but Quistis, along with Selphie, Zell, Squall, and to a lesser extent, Irvine and Rinoa, had reasons to believe that it was true.

Quistis looked with concern at Dr. Kadowaki. "Aren't you afraid it could wipe out half your med classes?"

"Half my 'what' now?" The doctor blankly returned the question.

"Good for you Doc," congratulated Irvine, "why listen ta those GF critics?"

"The GF whosis?"

"Hey, Dr. K.!" Piped Selphie, her hand up in the air as if she were asking a question in class. "Why did you say Squall strangled Zell again?" From her expression, it was obvious she had missed the explanation the first time around.

"Well, like I said before," started Dr. Kadowaki, "it's because of the…" there was a pause as she was trying to remember what reason she had given before. "It doesn't matter, this be most he's slept in…many years. Wouldn't you agree Quistis?"

Quistis replied inanely, "Probably. He's been known to get no more then three hours of sleep on a lot of nights."

"Three hours of sleep," Restated Rinoa, "no wonder he's such a grouch."

Kadowaki looked over to the speaker with a soft smile. "Yeah, that's probably it." Then the doctor left the room. The sounds of electronic pinball fallowed shortly, as well as a few 'whoops' and cheers.

The five teenagers stood still for a while, listening to Dr. Kadowaki continue knocking some pixel rendered marble about on her computer. They finally looked back at each other, then down at Squall, who was still sleeping.

Irvine finally broke the silence. "Do you think he's naked under those sheets?"

"Have you no remorse?" Snapped Rinoa. "The guy nearly died, and all you can think of is naked men!"

Both Quistis and Zell shuddered at those words, what with a picture in their minds they didn't want there in the first place.

"I'll check!" Selphie volunteered with a mindless smile.

Now, everyone in the room shuddered, arching their heads back as Selphie lifted up the white sheet.

"Oh my GOD!" She quickly placed the sheet back down. Looking up, she continued, "When was the last time he ate?"

The group murmured between them, with only shreds of hints, no real answers.

Symbolically, Zell waved his hand in front of him as a sign of dismissal. "_Psht_, he had more important things to worry about."

"Oh," Irvine quipped, "and I suppose you know when the last time you ate was?" His question was more of an insult then it sounded.

"Sure do." Bragged Zell.

"When was it?"

"How the hell should I know?"

§

Still asleep, Squall began to dream.

He was in a small, rectangular room. About a meter and a half long and a meter wide. The walls were of the barest of plywood, painted cyan. At the front of the room was a single brown, wooden door, consisting of a singe brass knob. The lentil was gone, with only a bare edge of white plywood, and several rusted nails told of where it should have been.

The floor was covered in dirty black tile, with marbled speckles of equally dirty beige. A single window hung on the right wall of the door, and to the left of him. The sky outside was a dingy white, and the telltale signs of a dead tree could bee seen.

He did not dare to look out of it though. From his still position, Squall sat in the corner, adjacent to the walls that held the door, and the window, with his arms wrapped around his knees, looking intently from time to time, at the window, and the door. He was dressed in a baggy, V-necked cotton shirt, and a pair of cotton slacks that were just as baggy. As pale blue in colour as the walls, his shirt would probably have hung down past his hips if he were standing up, and the cuffs of his pants would have dragged on the dirty ground, partially covering his bare feet.

The look of the white window scared him. The dread emitting from it came in the rapid burst of a machine gun. Secretly, he dreaded what he would see on the other side.

The doorknob turned suddenly. Squall looked over towards it, welcoming whatever was on the other side as much as he welcomed the sight beyond the window. The door opened, and in stepped some sort of nurse. The woman was short and stalky, with brown hair tied up in a bun. On top of her head was the standard nurse's hat, and around her waist, the plain white skirt of the nurse's uniform, the top half looked as if it had been torn off.

Even though she was topless, the woman was far from a teenage horndog's greatest hospital wishes. It was true she had breasts, and big ones, but they had three nipples each, and were scarred to the point they looked almost purple. The skin on the front of her stomach looked as if it had been cut off, and protruding under it, was a metallic tube, held together by rawhide strips that were sewn though her skin, and wrapped around the bloodied exterior of the pipe. The left half of her face looked as if it had been blown off with a shotgun at close range. As for the existing half, there was something…not so tangible, that didn't suggest she was human, but it was hard to describe.

She began to speak, in the smooth voice of a middle-aged woman. "Appalling Pace, the doctor is here to see you." She spoke Alcauldian, and Squall knew that 'Appalling Pace' meant him.

The nurse threw open the door the rest of the way, revealing the same creature he had seen before he had become conscious. Her seven tongues lashed from her mouth, waving around and licking her lips. Pointed ears rose from their flattened positions on her head. Those eyeless sockets locked on Squall. Behind her, was a stretcher. Beyond that, the same pale light he had been dreading to see.

As Squall reluctantly gazed towards the black entity's eye sockets, a sudden, internal force struck his nerve. Images began to come forward, this time, being more defined then before. A spider crawled across a flooded road and got sucked down a drainpipe. A heavy chain that was being cut in half with sowing sheers. A human head floating on acid and slowly dissolving. The torn remains of a dove. A dagger slowly melting on an ocean cliff. A naked, skin-and-bones rabbit with a dirty syringe stuck in its back as it hopped along an oak wood floor. Human intestines being sleuthed through an old spinning wheal.

Squall received a third person view of his face. His skin had grown unnaturally pale. His mouth hung open limply, lips almost as pale as his skin and peeling, revealing two sets of tartar streaked teeth. His hair fell limply about his face, the colour was dulled and greying. His bangs nearly hid his eyes, but he could see that they contained dark circles underneath. The eyes, themselves, were colourless, dilated, bloodshot, and glassy, giving off a blank stare. Finally, the diagonal scar on his face, the one that started at the top of his right eyebrow and headed diagonally down underneath his left eye, was bleeding.

The view of his degenerated features only lasted a second before he was brought back to his previous first person view.

Walking over towards him, the nurse forcefully took hold of his left forearm, hauling him to a standing position.

Last he recalled of the nightmare, he was being dragged by the nurse towards the cloaked figure, while screaming with all dreamlike might.

§

Selphie had told her to relax, but it was hard for Rinoa to do that when everybody was starting at her. As Quistis had stated earlier, the Garden was throwing a party for the recent banishment of two of the greatest witches to walk the earth, present and future. Word of Ultimicia hadn't been widespread to many of the students; so much of them believed that it was a celebration of the victory over Adel, and their conquering of the Lunatic Pandora, which was now part of Garden by the rule of 'to the victor go the spoils'. The same thing couldn't have been said about the Estharian flagship: Ragnarokk. The Estharian government, upon their arrival back to their city, had claimed the grand dragon ship. A physician there even took the time to look at Squall. But, due to Estharian law, as a foreigner, he was not allowed into any hospital. Instead, they filled him with their synthetic blood, gave him several prescriptions, and sent them back to Garden on a separate ship. Last Rinoa heard of the Ragnarokk, was that it was in some docking station in the Estharian Desert. And the Lunatic Pandora; was still in its original position over Tear's Point.

Rinoa wished they hadn't dropped her off at the Garden. Many of the students she didn't know were giving her funny looks, and she had a good idea why they were doing just that. It was probably a very ironic scenario to have been told they were to defeat the sorceress, to have defeated several sorceresses, and then have one invited back home. She was just lucky that none of them were to bring any weapons or magic into the ballroom. But even through all prejudges, she could find console in one person.

She found that person on the balcony at the far side of the ballroom, leaning on the railing. His ebony attire that was a means of intimidation was welcoming to her sight. It kind of reminded her of a black cat.

_Or, a black lion._ She thought.

Regardless of her advances, Squall remained oblivious. His own mind wasn't on the battles, the trials of the Sorceress, or the achievements of SeeD. No, they were on ghostly black cloaks, hairless rabbits, corroding heads, skeletal figures with wings, and empty rooms.

His own deathly features that were presented to him in his semiconscious were none to easily to forget. What had the whole episode meant? Was it shock? A brief psychotic episode? He didn't doubt either one of those theories, but neither could he carry past those images. So intent was he in his thoughts, that the sea he was staring at was as a dark weave of thorns and black smudges. The stars barely registered, and the moon, split into two spirals that mingled and mixed into a milky way of smears and garbled reminiscing.

As Rinoa stepped up beside him, she noticed his eyes were wide and containing no blinks. His mouth was agape, and saliva streamed out freely. She had seen his thinking face before, but the one she was seeing before her was a new one.

It didn't worry her that much that he had suddenly changed his thinking face. He had nearly died, and was probably still feeling a bit under the weather.

Rinoa remembered, only about four hours earlier, how much Dr. Kadowaki had protested when Squall had demanded to get up and start walking. The doctor was shocked when she saw him get up off the bed and stand. He only kept his balance for a few seconds, but he still stood up! Dr. Kadowaki had said that it was a bloody miracle that he could have even sat up, what with just having come out of consciousness only a few hours before. When she had imposingly volunteered to help him up, the doctor had nearly screeched when she saw that he was taking weak, but effective steps forward as Rinoa held him up. The woman had actually gotten on her knees and prayed to Hyne Himself for what she had seen. Rinoa wasn't that religious, but she had to admit that what Squall had achieved was one hell of a task for his condition.

He had refused to come to the party, but the fight he put up wore him out in only a few seconds, so he had no choice. Quistis had been the one who had brought him in, hobbling and complaining, and had been the one to drop him off at the balcony. It was a mutual agreement, she wanted to go and mingle, and he wanted to go some place quiet. The decision to do so was his better call. Many of the students had approached him with, either questions, or comments. From what Rinoa had heard first hand from Quistis, was that he had gotten ornery. If the cursing wasn't what made her say that, it was the nipping. Unfortunately, his bite was only the equivalent to gumming, and that made Squall even madder. She had been tempted to set him down at one of the tables… then Zell came.

Rinoa shook Squall's shoulder lightly, careful not to knock him over.

Instantly, his sluggish expression snapped back to his alert self. "I swear I was listening!"


	2. Tomes and Wills

2

Tomes and Wills

The common room…

A room where students could meet up after class to gossip, play marbles, finish up some homework, or watch TV. In other words… a social haven where a bunch of idiots get together to exchange bathroom humour and useless information in front of a mind-numbing box.

But on Friday night, the atmosphere was different. On Fridays, Squall ruled the common room from twenty-three hours to three. Four, on an exceptionally good night. It used to be the absolute perfect time to be alone. It was he and only he. But lately, the promise of all night marathons on P.K.R. that season, and the lax on the 'lights out' policy threatened his, once peaceful, Fridays. As the rabbit, he was constantly on the alert for hawks.

When the threat of the Sorceress had come, and he was put in charge of the Garden, all the students, and even some staff members, looked up to him. Even though he secretly resented all of it. Now that the threat was over, and he was stripped of his title, he was no more then a target of jealousy and bad gossip. The talk was atrocious; Students, both candidate and SeeD would call him names behind his back, calling him a 'has been' and a washed up leader. The junior classmen would gawk at him, whispering amongst them selves.

His sanctuary had grown smaller and smaller since Sorceress Ultimicia's defeat. Even when he was in the sun, it burned. Now he was in the cold. With Rinoa back in Timber, and Selphie and Zell gone with her, his closest associates were such a smaller number.

Funny, that the death of the Galbadian president would normally mean that they would give up any country under their feet, but nooooo. Squall was originally part of the Timber group sent to assist the Forest Owls resistant group in liberating their country from Galbadia. The loss of most of his blood, however, had made him too weak for the job, not that he would ever admit to it. It had been only a couple of days since his 'recuperation', and he was now, officially, awaiting a donor. His blood type just happened to be rare. It was ironic that whenever you needed blood, it always happened to be 'rare'. He was informed that once he got the donor, he would be brought to Timber. Until then, Zell was put in charge. A very scary thought indeed.

The true story of what happened with the time compression and Ultimicia, even his attempted suicide, was not fully told. Regardless, the staff was taken aback by Squall's rational action in the end. He was given a stern lecture about how killing one's self didn't work. Now, he was confined to the dormitories twenty-four-seven, unless he was told otherwise. His primary concern wasn't of how he would get his food, that problem had been worked out anyway; he was allowed to, at least, go to the cafeteria for about an hour for each meal. Giving a total of two hours out of the dorms.

The floorboards squealed with footsteps. Squall turned around to see who it was. Standing by the open corridor to the common room was a male candidate, about thirteen-ish. He was wearing a black robe with the Garden insignia on the left breast.

"What are you doing here?" Squall growled in his heavy Alcauldian, turning his head only slightly towards the intruder. The candidate started to explain, but was hissed at rudely by the older SeeD. The younger student ran off with no further words.

Feeling more secure, now that the obstruction was gone, Squall turned back to the TV. A gory, mindless, murder movie with no plot, no good acting, and half naked women running into the dark woods to escape some cliché psycho was showing. But he was more intent on his reading of a large, and very old book. Besides, he had already seen the movie eleven times.

_Good riddens to bad stalkers._ He thought bitterly. His trust and admiration for virtually every living thing in the Garden had been diminished to zero. Now he snapped at anybody and everybody with suspicion. Squall had denied it for the longest time, but he was now convinced that he was becoming more paranoid everyday, but was too afraid to let it rest.

Since he was considered well enough to get out of the infirmary, which was only two days ago, he had been taking four kinds of drugs: One, a stimulant to give him more energy, a second, that was used to prolong the usefulness of the synthetic blood, a third to help his body temperature stabilize, and a fourth to prevent infection around Griever's bite. It was still a mystery of what Griever's poison even did. Even though he had created him, he had given no thought to what the poison would do. Only Ultimicia's sick, twisted mind would know exactly how the toxin would work, and she was dead. Selphie was right, he would feel like a pile of crap.

Since his insomnia wouldn't let him sleep, he continued to read on into the gloomy nights. Searching for anything in his hoard of literature that would comfort him.

§

The next morning, the wake up alarm sounded. The wake up alarm was used to keep all the students lively and alert, both candidates and members used them. Split into their former classes, the students met at a set location every day.

Since most of the SeeDs were out, the parking lot (which virtually had no use) was not as immensely crowded. Thank goodness that the busy season was during the late summer and early fall. All students agreed that it would be complete hell hiking through the snow. Unless they were going to Trabia, where it was cold year round in its northernmost parts.

An instructor by the name of Instructor Repede was taking role call that morning. He was a small, small guy with dark hair, and most of the boys couldn't help a few snickers when he plodded by in his ample, but petite frame. The Instructor paid no attention to the unwanted chortles, but began to call out last names:

"Brochard."

"Here." Replied the cadet whose last name was Brochard.

"Cochrane."

"Here." Sounded a very winded Cochrane, who probably just arrived.

"Colemen."

"Huh." The reply.

"Dietrich."

"Here." She said after a few seconds where she probably was still asleep.

"Dincht."

"He's away on a mission." Replied one of the students.

Repede murmured an 'uh huh' under his breath before turning to the list again. "Durward."

"Also away on a mission."

"Ficher."

"Here."

"Freidmen."

"Here."

"Gerard."

"Here."

"Gilbert."

"Here."

"Howe."

"Here."

"Kingsbury."

"Here."

"Kinneas."

No answer immediately replied, and Instructor Repede knew why. In the front of the few SeeDs and candidates was the seventeen-year-old student, Irvine Kinneas, whom had fallen asleep while still standing up, and was snoring away quiet noisily.

"Kinneas!" Repede repeated, being a little closer to the boy, looking up, and really annoyed at the sleeping student.

He repeated again when he got no answer. "Kinneas!"

Irvine continued to snore away.

Some of the students backed up when they saw the Instructor turn ochre red.

"KINNEAS!" He yelled up at his face. Irvine woke up with a start, and, as if trained, stood at attention as if he hadn't dozed off in the first place.

"Explain why you fell asleep during role call, ON YOUR FEET?!" He pronounced in a Balambese accent, with his last few words being quite intense.

"Well…" Started Irvine, looking as sheepish as he felt. "Y'see, uh…it was, uh…no…you see, it was uh…hmm…it was…"

"Forget it." Jerked Repede, "I haven't time to wait for your excuse." He looked down at the clipboard he held, and continued to name off names.

"Lawrence."

"Here."

"Leighton."

"Here."

"Leonhart."

Like Kinneas, no answer came from Leonhart.

Instructor Repede listened for any audible reply. When he got none, he ordered the crowd to part, hoping that Leonhart had missed his name, like he had often. When the students had obediently parted, though, no one was left in the middle, not even the student in question. The Instructor bared his teeth at the absence of the tardy student. He knew quite well that Squall wasn't allowed outside the dormitories. Although, the wake up call was an exception that he had to, and always fallow. Also, it was a good way to find out if he was dead or not.

"Kinneas!" He yelled, pointing at Irvine.

"I wasn't sleepin'!"

"I know, and good for you." He scowled, not really liking how the day was starting off. "But, for your carelessness, I want you to go find Leonhart. And afterwards, I want that explanation of why you fell asleep during role call."

"Well, Okay." Irvine said, scratching his hatless, long brown hair, looking down at the tiny man. "But, what if he's sick?"

"Then refer to Dr. Kadowaki."

"What if he refuses to come?"

"Force him."

"What if he…"

"JUST GET HIM!" Yelled the instructor. Irvine cringed, and then took off like his life was in danger.

The students looked back at the running kid with sympathy. Fetching Squall, they knew, had to be the worst punishment possible that could be done in less then five minutes.

"Dead man runnin'." One of the students responded, with the rest murmuring in agreement.

§

He searched all the possible places where he could find the missing student: the training centre, the library, and the dorms, even the cafeteria's kitchen. He didn't find him until he looked up in the second floor, and there he was, with his nose stuck in a very large, and ratty looking book.

"Where you been man?" Irvine called. "I've been, like, looking all over for you."

Squall looked up from his book. The scar on his face seemed to accent the annoyance on his face. Dark haired, and blue eyed, he was known for his eyes of ice, and a glance that could turn anyone's blood to powder.

"None of your business." Squall hissed sourly. He pertained the usual Alcauldian accent, which sounded quite Swedish, or Icelandic. It was a heavy accent, but he had the amazing ability to drop it and use another. On the other hand, Irvine still pertained his New Galbadian accent, sounding something like a New Yorker-ish accent. One of the greatest mysteries of anthropology was how the continent of Balamb produced two, distinct languages, on a small patch of land, with so few people, and so few biological barriers. The most common language was Western Dialect, or Balambese, spoken by the majority, and getting its name from the continent itself. The second was Eastern Dialect, or Alcauldian, much less common, but was the chosen language of use at Balamb Garden. Many students at Garden could speak both languages, and quite fluently. Amazingly, Irvine was among those many, unlike most of the transferred students from Galbadia.

"C'mon, Squall!" Irvine piped urgently, grabbing hold of Squall's jacket sleeve.

"Hands of the material!"

"Yo, dude, we gawda go. You aren't ,like, supposed to be here, and I still have to give Repede an excuse for falling asleep during role call."

"Well, maybe you wouldn't fall asleep if you had enough brain power too stay awake more than fifteen minutes!"

"Well, I'm only human."

Squall rolled his eyes at the half-baked remark, and returned to his book.

"Hey, watcha readn'?" Irvine asked, noticing his obvious distain for the present.

"I don't discuss literature with air heads."

"Hey! I went through all the trouble to ,like, find you. The least you could do is let me see what your reading."

_Wanna bet?_

As Irvine tried to get a closer look at the cover, Squall kept swerving the book out of view.

"Say, Irvine," he started, with a hint of gloating in his voice, "weren't you here to tell me something?"

"To hell with that! Watcha readin'?"

"Why d'you care?"

"C'mon man, don't be this way."

"What way?" Squall remarked sarcastically.

"What's this all about?" An angry feminine voice exclaimed. Both boys turned to see that Quistis had stumbled upon their argument. The woman spoke with a wild mix of both Alcauldian and Balambese accents, giving her that 'distinct' voice.

Irvine started to speak first. "He won't let me see what he's reading!"

_Tattle tail._

"Squall, is this true?" Quistis snapped, looking more at the book them him.

_Give it up woman._ His bitter thoughts maimed. _I'm not your student anymore. Go boss someone else around._

"Squall," replied Quistis, "I asked you a question!" She sounded annoyed, but not much more then she usually was.

Speaking without taking his eyes off the book, he told her: "You ask question? Good for you. Now go bug someone else."

"Sarcasm will get you nowhere." She continued, "You, out of everybody in this garden should know that. Evan more then that guy who has book on the subject. You've been the king of sarcasm from the start. Since we got back, you've been the god of sarcasm."

"Oh, I thought you were condemning me for my sarcastic ways."

Quistis gave him a stunned look, then her expression changed to annoyed again, as she just realized what he was getting at. "Don't change the subject!" Then, she stormed off down the hallway, mute and red.

_Whatever._

"Hey!" Irvine announced, sounding rather happy. "I just thought of a good excuse to give Repede!" He started to run down the hallway towards the elevator with a huge smile of gratitude. "See ya Squall!" He called back as the elevator door closed, descending to the first floor.

_Weren't you supposed to tell me something?_ Thought Squall. _Oh well, if it be important, I hear about it later._

§

Instructor Repede had not been happy with either Squall, or Irvine. Both of them ended up in the discipline room writing lines on the chalkboard.

While Irvine was busy writing a hundred lines of: _I will not fall asleep in front of an instructor_, Squall was writing a hundred lines of: _The wake up call is not 'an annoying waste of five minutes'_. On top of that, he was also writing a hundred lines of: '_Pain' is not the definition of another student coming to alert you_, and a hundred lines of: _No one expects you to be fashionably late_. Right after he was told to write a whole other line, besides his first, he knew he should have shut up. But how could he when they were all out to get him? He was just lucky that he was only writing a hundred of each, and not two hundred of each.

Irvine had apparently become bored, and started talking.

"Isn't it cool that we have detention together?"

Squall refused to answer him, and continued to write.

The cowboy felt hurt that he didn't respond, but he continued to talk. "Y'know, this is ,like, the first time I had to write lines."

"No talking." Replied Squall inanely.

"Hey, we's not being supervised Instructor Leonhart!"

"It matters none!" Squall snapped. "Their omnipresent stance amongst us can visualise our very thoughts among their glass eyes."

Irvine looked dumbfounded at the dark lad. "Translation?"

"The cameras! You dip!" He yelled pointing towards the camera on the far left corner of the ceiling. "They want us to write," continued Squall, "So write, we will." He turned to his lines, which were already covering a chalkboard and a half, while Irvine was still only seven lines done.

_Gosh, man,_ thought Irvine. _It would help me a lot if you spoke a language I understood._ As reluctant as he felt, Irvine took up the piece of chalk. The dry, gritty feel of its white exterior felt less then welcoming to his seemingly calloused fingers. A gross, unpleasant feel that surpassed the ugly touch of gravel by levels unmentioned. Yet Squall managed to puke out more then one line a minute from the smearing rock. How he managed to go through that every week was over Kinneas's head.

§

Squall had finished his three hundred lines before Irvine was even half finished. Not that he was remotely done with his punishment. He still had to clean up the Headmaster's office, and exterminate the rats that had gotten in there since last week's bagel delivery.

He exited the elevator on the third floor with a wagon of cleaning supplies: mop, bucket, sponge, soap, duster, bleach, vacuum, hammer, and turpentine to clean up the blood of the rats. His game leg limped as he moved. When Ultimecia had sicked that GF, Griever, on them, it had taken a good-sized chunk out of his right calf with its maw. It was only a few days ago, and it still made walking a chore. It continued to smote his brain on how that broad had stolen his idea of a GF.

Headmaster Cid was sitting at his oaken desk, which was mostly hidden by the lift to the bridge. He poked his head over as far as he could to look past the huge tube of the old and rusting lift.

"Ah, hello Squall." The Headmaster greeted cheerfully, putting his head back in its normal position. He got up off his chair and walked over to his student.

"Well," The Headmaster chuckled, "I see you're prepared."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Then I want you to scrub floors, vacuum carpet, shine my desk, clean out cupboards, dispense the cobwebs, polish the lift, sweep up the bridge, remove hornets nest, dust the bookshelves, tidy up my pictures, and mop up that god awful ink stain you left behind a couple weeks ago." He said that as he pointed toward a big, dark blue stain on the left side of the lift 'tube', and he said it all with a smile and a chortle. "And don't, I repeat, DON'T mess up the files again." Squall looked around the room. The weariness from his weakened limbs made the whole office look twice as big. The job of just hauling up the cleaning supplies took an hour, and had knocked most of the java out of him. Regardless, the Headmaster still insisted that he do it for the exercise.

"But, sir," started Squall with a quizzical note, "what about rats?"

"That, well," continued Cid, "I didn't think I'd have to remind you about that. I know how much you love killing things." He chuckled again, and Squall smiled weekly. Yes, he had been eager to get at those rats before he started his lines. The headmaster didn't even notice that he had 'tried' to smile.

Cid Kramer became more serious with his next words. "Now then, I'm expecting someone at…three hours ago. So I want your best cleaning job, yah. That means I want to see my face in anything that can be reflective." He smiled after he said 'okay', then left, hoping his office was in good hands with Squall.

The door closed, and he was left alone to the cavernous office, with its reflective floors, rusted piece of junk in the middle, and a pilot's station that was empty, since they had parked the floating Garden near the territories of the Dollet Dukedom, just above the shallows.

He got right to work. First, he took care of that ink stain he had left behind when he refused to sign reports saying that he did indeed kill Sorceress Adel and Ultimicia (damn politics). He had to clean up the parking lot for that crime. He moped up the shining surface of the floor, and polished the lift until his arms and shoulders ached, which wasn't very long, so he used some of the turpentine. The rug took awhile as it got stuck in the vacuum several times. The cupboards were a nightmare. The crap that Cid Kramer had stored in there over the years was an unbelievable mess of papers, pop cans, disks, ratty books, confiscated items (Squall helped himself to some of them, including those that were taken away from him), some string, moulding pastries, and rat droppings that were probably the only new things in there. The cobwebs were everywhere: the cupboards, the bridge, the lift, the door, under the desk, around the chair, around the tapestries, by the giant bay window, under the bridge, and places he didn't even know were there. Getting rid of the hornet's nest that was stuck high up on the roof wasn't as easy as he thought. He couldn't swing a broom without getting stung, and when it did fall, the hornets were all over him, he only managed to bat them all with a big piece of plywood that had been resting in the back of the office. Next, he took the time to tidy up the Headmaster's many pictures. He had a small-framed picture of him and his wife, Edea, whom had raised Squall, and several of his 'associates' from childhood. There were a couple of pictures of some Garden events, and a few of Squall's misfortunate pranks. Out of curiosity, he dug through the desk drawers to see what else he could find.

There were some old photos, and many of them had captions written on the back. Squall found a real old one of a young Cid, no more then ten, enjoying a picnic with what he assumed were family members. A surprising shock, since he didn't think of the Headmaster's family often; for the simple reasons that the thought made him gag. There was another old photo of a young man in some sort of uniform. The caption on the back read: 'My father in-law'. Squall would have loved to know more, but that was all it said. Looking at those old photos was freaky, but at the same time, exciting. He had always been the one who wanted to know everything; his curiosity had the appetite of a healthy tiger, and twice the aggression. All training told him to hold his curiosity at bay whenever he was on missions. But, since he was in the Garden, that didn't count. He found some more photos of the Headmaster's family, a few of Matron's relatives, some miscellaneous pictures of dogs, cats, and one of a badly painted car; for some reason. He came across a baby picture. There were two babies, one of them was wearing a cyan sleeper and crying, the other was crawling away, holding a rattle in its chubby hand. Squall checked the back. It read: 'Seifer steels little Zell's rattle.'

_Awww. Seifer looks soooo cute in diaper._ He thought with a smirk. _I can't wait to show him this picture. He'll freak._ Squall couldn't remember a lot about Seifer Almasy when he was just little, but he knew him now, and the two hated each other's guts. A fickle hate-hate relationship, if you were to ask just why they hated each other, you'd get no clear answer.

Another photo he found was that of an older kid. The child could have been no more then three or four, and already he had scruffy brown hair that hid his face. The kid was wearing dark green trousers and yellow T-shirt, looking rather happy as he swung a red, plastic crowbar over his head and sat beside what looked like a fridge that had seen better days. The caption on the back read: 'After Squall destroyed the fridge (BOOM!)'.

He looked at the picture again, back at the caption, then back at the picture. _Damn! I was nightmare before I entered Garden!_ He slipped both pictures into his pocket, and started to rummage through the other drawers. He found reports, records, personal notes that he hid under the desk so he could pick them up when he was finished, junk that he didn't recognize, and something that put his hungry curiosity into a rave. It was a pamphlet.

The title read: _Psychology of Adolescents and Young Adults._ Inside was information of certain diagnostics, neurosis, eating disorders, depression, and common problems of the teenage mind that parents seemed to run across often. Squall couldn't speak for them, the only parental figure he did have, were the Headmaster, Edea, and possibly Dr. Kadowaki.

On the very back was written the title of some institute, a phone number, and a name: Dr. Cathem.

_He wants me to see a shrink! I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted._ He pocketed the pamphlet with the backwards assumption that maybe the Headmaster would forget the whole thing. There was no way he was going to see a shrink, especially when he didn't have a reason to see one.

§

The greasy little rodent looked at him in a glassy stare, twitching its nose in front of his. The rat was so close that Squall could tell that he would be able to identify what it just ate from the smell of its breath, if he had his sense of smell. When Seifer had given him his trademark scar across his face, it slashed the back of his nose. Never, did he know the science behind it, but after that, he had permanently lost his sense of taste and smell.

The two stared at each other. The rat was calculating if Squall was friend or foe, and Squall was lulling it into a sense of false security so that he could smash it with the hammer. He had found the rat in the heating vent over the hallway to the Headmaster's office. Several furry bodies lay in a wastebasket beside the huge desk, and Squall was sure the one in front of him was the last 'live' one. Shooting the hammer forward, the rat evaded him, scuttling over his arm and away from him.

_Clever pest ain't you._ He thought with admiration. _Running past me instead of away from me, knowing damn well that it's too frickn' hard to turn around in here!_

§

The elevator halted at the third floor. Out of it came Headmaster Cid and a tall, lanky, copper headed and freckled instructor named Instructor Scrivens, whom towered over Cid. Scrivens had been meeting a lot with the Headmaster to discuss the matters of his language department. He taught several languages. Being only one other instructor in the Garden that taught a foreign language, he was the busiest of all the mentors, and was always asking the Headmaster for more help. So far, his pleas were denied. But now, he was happy to hear that Cid was receiving applicants for foreign language instructors.

"I'm so glad your hiring applicants," Scrivens started, "Panell is good, but he only teaches Galbadian." Scrivens spoke in a Trabian Nywell accent, which was similar to a Scottish accent. It wasn't as strong as Selphie Tilmitt's, but still noticeable.

"Well, is true what you have said before," the Headmaster spoke with his Alcauldian accent, "to go around big world, the students can't rely on having someone else to translate." He stopped for a second, going over in his mind if what he just said made sense, then he put his hand on the golden handles of the double doors to his office, pausing, as a couple of loud clanging sounds sounded from above. The two men looked up to see the naked heat duct contract huge nicks all over its silvery underbelly.

Headmaster Cid looked back at Scrivens. "I think you like her, yah. She's straight from Esthar. She can speak a few of the continents tongues, and some southern Trabian tongues." He stopped when he heard more clangs above him.

"But, you have done remarkable job without help. I give you that." Continued Cid, looking back at instructor Scrivens.

"Why thank you, sir." Scrivens replied happily. "I just hope the lass can handle Mr. Leonhart. So far, he's managed to scare away three new applicants, and get two of them fired."

Cid laughed when Scrivens told him of his troubles. "Oh, yes, those were amusing times alright."

"Yes." Scrivens stated bluntly, not at all agreeing with Cid's statement, "well, if I ever see the lad again today, I'll have too…"

Instructor Scrivens was cut off when the heating duct gave way from above, and out tumbled Squall, falling on his back. His white shirt was soiled in dust and smeared blood, and so was his face.

"Sir," he started, still coughing from the flying dust, "the rats are dead." To illustrate his point, he held up the smashed body of a rat by its tail.

"Ahh! Here he is!" The Headmaster spoke with excitement, looking at Scrivens, then back at Squall with his smile still visible. "Now you can tell him what you were going to say."

Scrivens looked back at the young man, with his dirty clothes and bloody kill, still gripped by the tail with his gloved fingers.

"Squall," Instructor Scrivens started, just a little shakily, "we…we are getting a new…um…instructor. S-so I'm hoping th-that you can…ah, be (cough) just a bit…uh…not do anything that might scare normal people?"

The boy looked absently at the red headed instructor. "Okay, yah. I do that." He agreed with a little sarcasm in his voice.

"See you later Leonhart." Scrivens quivered, running towards the elevator in a hurry. He had obviously been nervous enough when he talked to him.

_What's your problem, Scrivens?_ Squall thought bitterly. _Just because I kill one rat, you run away like I killed human being!_

Instructor Scrivens had been Squall's language instructor, and he had not been easy on the poor man. He couldn't get the kid to work with anybody, couldn't get him in front of the class, couldn't get him away from the meter sticks, couldn't get him to stay away from flammable objects, and couldn't get him to fallow instructions period. Squall had broken many good meter sticks over the years, along with so many other inanimate objects. Most of which were broken on people, and he didn't want to start with his obsession with fire. When he was younger, Scrivens would hide in a broom closet and cry before every class with him. Such, was the Leonhart charm.

He heard the Headmaster call from inside his office. "Squall, a word with you."

He began to get up, when he realized he was missing something. "Where's my hammer?" He asked himself out loud. With an ironic answer, the hammer fell out of the broken heating duct, hitting him on the head.

_There it is._

Rubbing his head while picking up the instrument, along with muttering Alcauldian curses, he got up obediently to answer the Headmaster's call. He opened the door and limped in. The Headmaster was scrolling through his cupboards.

"Squall," he began, looking at the dirty youth with a dead rat in his left hand, and a hammer in his right, "do you know what happened with the 'stuff' I put up here?" His emphasis on 'stuff' told Squall that he was referring to all that 'stuff' he 'stole' from him.

"What makes you think I stole anything, sir?" Squall asked, giving the best 'I'm innocent' look.

The Headmaster sighed with comical emphasis, holding out one hand towards the boy. Squall gave in by handing the man several spare keys, a couple of occult magazines he kept hidden under his jacket, a matchbox, and a Roman candle. Even when he did hand over these things, the Headmaster still held out his hand. Squall should have known better then to use any 'innocent' look on him. Again, he handed over a rubber dagger he kept behind his sleeve, a small canister of hydraulic acid he stuffed down his pants, a lighter he kept tucked in his boot, and the two pictures of him, Seifer, and Zell.

Headmaster Cid looked at the two pictures, and burst out laughing.

_Wahzzo funny?_ "What's so funny sir?" Asked Squall.

"Is funny because you were only three and blowing up kitchen appliances."

_Watch out world! I have record spanning over fourteen years._

The Headmaster laughed some more. Finally, he put the pictures back in Squall's hand. "You keep them." The older man told the boy, "to remember your childhood, at a humorous glance." He continued to chuckle some more as he walked over to the file cabinet.

Squall put the two pictures into his pocket, not forgetting to throw the body of the dead rat into the wastebasket with the others. Tying the plastic bag up, he limped back to the door, dead rats in hand. Just then, the Headmaster began to address him again.

"Can you tell me why I found a D, in the H's?" Questioned the Headmaster, whom had opened one of the file cabinet drawers, and was now looking at Squall with his intimidating smile.

"It was like that when I got here." Was his answer? It was one of his frequent lies.

§

A small meeting had congregated about on the balcony that overlooked the quad of the Balamb Garden. The quad was the next most popular place to hang out next to the cafeteria, and the dorms didn't count.

Sitting around in a circle were eight students: one SeeD, and seven candidates. Who would be considered the head of the circle was a dark haired SeeD named Nida. He was also the pilot of the airborne academy, and was one of the four students who took the last SeeD test to become SeeD. The other three being: Squall, Zell, and Selphie. At his right was a male candidate named Sindri, dark blonde and lanky, only reached five six. Beside Sindri was a newer, Galbadian candidate named Rick, short of Derick, and a short specimen himself, only reached five three, and wasn't too bright to boot. Beside Rick was a female candidate known as Kord. Dark haired and pale. Beside her was another female student, whom was from Dollet. Her name was Dina, a red head in huge puffy pigtails. Sitting beside Dina, was another male student from Galbadia who knew more Balambese than Alcauldian. His name was Brokk. Then, there was Yuri, a male candidate, dyslexic by all means. The last one, sitting to the left of the only SeeD was Yagi, not to be confused with Yuri. Even though he looked nothing like him, what with being taller, darker in hair and skin, and had brown eyes instead of blue, he was still called Yuri by accident, and vice versa.

A garbage barrel had been set on fire down on the quad. Several garbage bags were placed by it, as Dina and Kord, being with their backs to the balcony edge, turned around often to see.

It was Nida who took them out of their speculating with a forceful cough. The girls both turned around surprised and embarrassed looks on both their faces.

"Now, there's no need to look at a burning barrel. Is there?" Spoke Nida with a definite tone of authority, and a light Alcauldian accent. "We're here for a reason!" Even though his tone was still forceful, he kept it as quiet as possible so he wouldn't be overheard.

"No we ain't," started Rick, in a heavy New Galbadian accent, "we're only here 'cause you called us."

Nida gave the bleached blonde a funny look. "Yes, that would be the reason we're here."

"Oh, okay." Rick accepted with a funny smile on his face as Nida's words sunk in.

_Out of all the airheads in Garden, I have to be stuck with you._ The SeeD thought bitterly. _Well, it could be worse, I could be stuck with Zell._ Secretly, he shuddered at the thought.

"I still think it's too early." Spoke Yuri with concern, and a thicker Alcauldian accent then Nida's. His please wouldn't have gotten far, Nida knew quite well that Yagi wasn't the most confident, and had to re-think every move he made.

"You say that to everything!" Nida found himself scolding the fourteen year old.

Regardless of what he thought, everyone else seamed to have the same feelings as Yagi, looking sheepishly about, as if trying to find an answer.

Realizing that if he didn't intervene, he would loose them all to rebellion, Nida spoke to them smoothly enough to ease their worries. "Hey, hey. The timing couldn't be more perfect. Squall has no idea that he has paved the way for us to move. With the staff preoccupied with his mental state, they won't see what hit them!"

"How can you be so sure?" Asked a sceptical Sindri.

Nida looked at the candidate. "Because," he started, "this has never happened before. They're convinced that only Squall will do something irrational. They are totally unprepared for such psychological emergencies."

"Is that the Squall you're talking about?" Asked Brokk with a Wayside Galbadain accent, pointing down towards the quad. All eight of them got up to look out towards the burning barrel.

A dark haired student appeared from bellow, wearing a leather jacket, and much other black. The collar of the jacket was ordained in a muff of white fur that seamed to pulse up and down as he limped into view. Even though he wasn't allowed to carry his gunblade around, he still wore the same, loose two belts around his waist.

He stopped beside the barrel, with his right side visible to the onlookers on the balcony. It was clear to anyone who saw him that he was doing all he could to keep his weight off of his maimed leg. Even when he tried to pick one of the garbage bags up, he stumbled several times until he decided to turn around to face the bag head on. Easily picking up the black plastic, he turned around to his original position. Putting a dark gloved hand into the bag, he began to say in a sarcastic manner:

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the passing of…Rat number one." From the plastic bag, he withdrew a bloody hulk of fur with a stringy tail swaying in the afternoon breeze. With no further words, he threw it into the ignited barrel.

Squall withdrew another dead rat from the bag. "…Rat number two," and threw it into the fire, "rat number three…rat number four…rat number five…rat number six…rat number seven…rat number eight…rat number nine…and the rest." With those last words, he threw the entire bag into the fire.

The seven candidates gagged, even muttered disgustingly.

"That's nothing," started Nida to the engrossed seven, "you should see him with his gunblade!"

"Is dat de student who was initiated wit you?" Inquired Dina.

"It sure is."

Down below, Squall began hooting and hollering. "BURN BABY! SEE YOU IN HELL!"

Sindri, always the one to criticize, spoke next. "I can't see how that whooping crane could become SeeD? It's hard enough to believe Zell made it!"

"That is just the drugs, yah" Nida assured, "he can be a real killing machine when he's sober."

All, still intent on the spectacle below, witnessed Squall picking up the second of the garbage bags and taking a handful of papers out. He chucked them into the flames carelessly. Then, he started to throw the papers in one at a time, naming them off as they entered the inferno.

"I didn't know we got jury duty?" Replied Kord as she heard Squall name off one of the papers as "jury duty".

"Wha'z jury duty?" Asked Rick.

Silently, Nida sighed at his comrade's ignorance, but decided to answer. "A jury is a group of people present at a court so they can judge the defendant innocent or guilty."

"I thought the judge did that?"

"He does for small cases, for big cases, a jury decides."

"Wow, the justice system is so complicated."

"And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

Rick murmured more sighs of 'wow' as he kept his eyes on the quad with the rest of the group.

A round little man by the title of Instructor Ambrus came waddling in through the front entrance. Which was just under, and to the immediate right of the balcony where Nida and his group were spying from, and only a few feet in front of Squall's Burning Barrel of Death and Junk Mail.

Silencing his drugged chanting, Squall turned his face away from the fire to look at the intruding teacher. The SeeD gave Ambrus a menacing sneer. One, which clearly told all onlookers that he was too doped up to care what was happening.

"Hey there Instructor Butter Butt." He casually greeted as the older man walked towards him.

Instructor Ambrus didn't look phased in the least, mainly because Squall had possibly used every 'fat' name in the Alcauldian language on him, long before he started taken medicinal drugs.

Ambrus spoke, calmly. "Okay, Squall. You've been out here long enough, is time to go back to the dorms."

Squall leaned his head on his right shoulder, looking dumbfounded at the idea, but perked up quickly. "Okay! But first, you have to catch me!" In a wild dash, he took off towards the back of the quad.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE!" Ambrus yelled, running off as fast as his fat little legs would manage it.

The eight students above tried in earnest to keep their laughter from being heard. Poor Ambrus had a hard time running, not alone running after a youth who was about twenty-five years younger and well over a hundred pounds thinner.

"'Ee's more fun when ee's 'igh." Dina chortled, obviously referring to Squall.

"And he's not like that when he's sober?" Brokk asked quizzically. Since he was so new to the Garden, he didn't quite know a lot about Squall.

Nida chided in on the conversation. "Hell no! On any other day, he would have just thrown that barrel at the instructor and walked back to the dorms himself!"

Yuri contradicted the statement. "Now that would defeat the purpose of throwing the barrel."

"Maybe," concluded Nida, sounding quite rushed, as he appeared to ponder with some recent thoughts, "but listen up." Obediently, the seven candidates looked towards the SeeD.

"This being our busy season," he continued, "most of the 'good' SeeDs are gone. The only ones who are worth the worry are Squall Leonhart and Quistis Trepe."

The candidates murmured for an explanation as to why this was so, even though Nida was quite content to finish his speech without their approval. "Unlike the staff peoples, the student body isn't expected to give a damn about Leonhart. Quistis can become concerned, especially about someone she used to instruct, even though she's flaky. Still, underestimating her actions could be fatal."

_Whoa!_ Thought Rick. _My head hurts._

"So Leonhart is still a threat?" Started Kord.

"Damn straight. If I know him, and I don't, he'll probably be junctioned twenty-four-seven."

The candidates looked a tad bit worried at Nida. Slowly, they turned their heads around to see what was happening below.

Squall had come back, waving Instructor Ambrus's shirt around wildly with a bare-chested, fat man, trying to get close enough. Every time Ambrus had the chance to get close, Squall would nimbly dodge him.

Dina turned to Kord, who was beside her. "If 'ee really is as good as I have 'eard, 'ee's not showing it."

"Then again," started Nida, with a bit of an awkward face, "he might be too doped up to give a damn about what's happening around him."

"No kidding." Began Yagi, turning from the spectacle towards the SeeD. The other candidates fallowed in suit. "But, I still have butterflies in my stomach."

"Well, boo-hoo, Yuri" Quipped Nida.

"I'm Yagi!"

"You sure are." The SeeD agreed with softened temperament. "Don't you seven want a better chance?"

All candidates nodded.

"And don't you want the chance to make a difference?"

The candidates nodded again.

"Don't you want to step down from the rank of oppression that you had to suffer for years and years on end, only to be told that you will never be a SeeD."

Some of the candidates nodded, while some even applauded softly.

"And don't you think it's high time we got a cappuccino machine in the cafeteria?"

The candidates all agreed with a round of applause, softened cheers, and agreeing mumbles.

"Then it's settled!" Nida spoke with vigour. "Headmaster Cid must die!"

The same round of enthusiasm fallowed, but was cut short when they heard a bunch of gruff pants coming from below.

All eight students looked down at the quad, nearly laughing out loud. Ambrus was still bare-chested. But, this time, Squall had managed to cling himself on the instructor's back, with his arms wrapped around the older man's chubby neck. Ambrus was stumbling around, trying to get his attacker off him.

"Am I going to fast for you?" Squall asked with an excited voice.

Ambrus huffed a muffled answer, than collapsed face first on the floor.

Brokk nearly broke their cover by bursting out laughing, but was stifled by Yagi.

"So, are we revved?" Nida spoke to his group, more of an empowering remark for himself. He may have been the only SeeD there, but the oldest was Yagi at twenty, and would be leaving Garden _very_ soon, which was the main reason he did join their group.

To Nida's latest remark, the candidates all agreed with enlightened hopes that they would finally be accepted.

"Before we move, though, we need to think over our moves."

"Think over what moves?" Rick butted in, "lets get this show on the road!"

"I agree with radical moves." Agreed Yuri, not sounding very sure.

Sindri moved in on conversation. "Screw that, we need to take baby steps, or we'll be caught!"

"Baby steps my ass." Scoffed Yagi, "I'm outta hear in less then a month, and I ain't leaving like that!"

"Then, if you have a plan," proposed Nida, "I'd like to hear it."

Yagi immediately became defensive. "Plan, I was hoping you would come up with one!"

"Oh, so I'm the brains of this outfit, is that it?"

Yagi, Yuri, Brokk, Sindri, Kord, and especially Rick, agreed.

"Nida," Dina started, sounding a bit startled and worried.

"What!"

"'Ee's looking at me."

Looking towards Dina, they were all shocked to see that Squall was clinging tightly to the balcony rail, looking at Dina without blinking.

"That's some stuff they're givn' him." Concluded Rick sarcastically.

Nida started to cuss under his breath. _Terrific, how much does that druggie know?_

A broom and bucket were placed at the back of the balcony for maintenance purposes. Nida went over and grabbed the broom. Walking up to Squall, he started to poke him with the broom.

"Beat it, get down, get down…" and similar phrases were repeated as Squall kept countering Nida's attacks by biting the broom handle.

Notes for Clarity: Some of you are probably wondering about Nida's motives. Just to let you know, this idea did not come out of the blue. If you recall, right after Squall receives his rank in the game, you descend to the second floor catwalk. When Nida is spoken to, he will stutter and ask what you want, talk to him again, and he will say "I'm goinna rule this Garden some day."


	3. Cloak

3

Cloak

Cruising down a dusty country road was a dingy looking car. Rusted on the bottom, and paling, blue from fender to back bumper. It was a simple family sized car driving down the rural roads around the Timber region. Inside were two passengers. It looked like a couple of people out for a morning drive. But in reality, it was business.

At the wheel of the old, beat up vehicle, was the bold and blonde, Zell Dincht, and in the passengers seat sat Selphie Tilmitt. They were heading to the new base of the resistance group, the Forest Owls. It was sure a new feeling having Zell in charge. Squall would have never allowed them to play the radio at full blast. In all respects, it would be better for them. Who would suspect a bunch of rowdy teenagers to be heading towards the pad of a resistant group, and probably be given the orders to assassinate the very people who looked at them and thought: "_what a bunch of punk morons"_.

The radio was blaring some alternative rock band singing in Valoo. With happy faces, and carefree attitudes, the two tried their best to keep up, but mumbled through much of the verse, not really knowing what the heck they were singing.

_Chukmin talo ismis wan uktant gwan ichu,_  
I've been to the westside bank as of late,  
_Inchun talo sedikt bwanch ipun kesaku._  
I should be going home by the rising moon.  
_Tnukchu abba sanda wannama;_  
The stories won't make me leave;  
_Miqua paka ima sua,_  
I must see with my own eyes,  
_Èmahnna hinta kepcha;_  
Why the due falls;  
_Èmahnna ba qiu gahmna!_  
Why the crazy people come out at night!

They were to meat at a Galbadian road check. There, they would meet one of the resistance members, incognito. The contact would give them directions to the new base. The last one, they knew, had been found, and trashed. So far, they had no no news on their new abode.

"Do you remember the queue Zell?" Selphie asked, making double sure that the instructions hadn't rubbed off of his arm.

"Sure." He replied, taking his hands off the wheal and looking at his left forearm.

"_Eiuwak muk nüto wasaman._" The queue was in Mainstream Timber, and neither of the mercenaries could speak that language either.

"Aye." Agreed Selphie, looking very pleased. "The password?"

Zell looked towards the smaller girl with his usual look of spellbound know-nothing look.

"The password we tell them when we hear the queue." She repeated.

Zell looked at his forearm again. "_Tuka! Mebak nüto hapan ütaaqabuq apuk na wisimus._"

Not sure if what he said really was the password, Selphie leaned over and took the guy's arm. He had scribbled various things down on his skin in black ink, and in a very small print. But, sure enough, she could see that Zell got it right.

In the action of checking their queues and passwords, Zell had let go of the wheal. They had swerved onto the wrong side of the road, and a car was headed right for them. Selphie let out a sudden, panicky yelp, and grabbed hold of the steering wheel, swerving them out of the path of the other car just in time. The other driver honked their horn madly.

"Sorry!" Selphie apologized, looking towards the car. She knew that the driver wouldn't have heard her, but, at least, she meant it.

"Yeesh, what's got him all upset?" Huffed Zell, getting his hands back on the wheal. "And since when did you become Queen of Twenty Questions all of a sudden? You're acting like Quistis."

"Oh, c'mon," the girl whined, "'tis the Galbadians we're dealing with. Last time we screwed up, we were thrown in the clink house, an' Squall got the electrical treatment."

"Yeah." Agreed Zell, remembering when they had been arrested for attempting to kill the Sorceress. Then, he smiled. "His hair was sure funny lookn'."

"If'n he were here, he'd tie you up to the back bumper and drag your arse over yon road."

"If he were here, he would be able to decipher this stupid song!" He pointed angrily at the radio for visual aid.

"Well, he's not! So you're just goinna have to make due." Now, she was behaving like the Selphie he knew. "Y'know, you're going to have to take his place. So, what kind of impressions can you do of him?" v

"Oh," groaned Zell in annoyance, "why don't you just shove me out of the car and run me over."

"Oh, c'mon. Act like him!"

"I just did."

Selphie looked shocked and aback at the blonde. "That's good." She congratulated when it had just sunk in what he had done. "Do another one!"

Zell grunted apathetically.

Squealing with glee, Selphie clapped her hands playfully, bouncing up and down in her seat. "That's exactly what Squall would say!"

"Whatever."

"Damn!"

"I know."

"How'd you get so good at that?"

"Idunno?"

"Woah! Now, you're just creepy."

"I wasn't behaving like Squall."

"Then, why'd you stop? You were doing soooo good?"

"I know. But, too good if you tell me. It's scary to act like that guy." He gave a little shiver to prove his point. "No wonder he hates himself." He turned his gaze towards Selphie, once again, taking his hands off the wheal. "I'd hate me, too, if I talked like that all the time."

"Zell! Car!"

Zell swerved, narrowly missing the oncoming vehicle. This time, Selphie was very aware that they were being cursed at, even though she couldn't speak the language.

§

The Galbadian road block came up to view.

"This is it," began Selphie, in a low whisper, "'tis show time."

"Yeah, baby." Zell cheered, also keeping his voice low. One of the rarer of social occurrences, Selphie took note of that, and was surprised that he actually kept he voice down.

A Galbadian soldier in blue uniform came up to their car, fallowed by two uniformed men that were probably normally stationed there.

"_Chagootoo uk mukagoot, ukama._" License and registration, please.

Zell looked appallingly at the blue uniformed soldier.

_The hell if I'm supposed to know what you're saying!_

The soldier asked him again. This time, when Zell didn't change his expression, the Galbadian opened up the driver's door. The SeeD took this as a sign that he should get out. And out he got, with Selphie getting out of the passenger's side.

The Galbadian soldier looked furious at Zell.

"_Gotoo. Kocha takata kochak nimukon maat bukut?_" So. You think your getting of easy?

_Say what?_ Thought Zell.

To intervene came one of the other men. A shorter guy then the other two, and a trite bit familiar. Zell could have sworn he had seen that guy before, but decided that, if he was going to stay out of prison, he was best to keep his mouth shut. It took all his will power, and a good chunk of his sense of decency not to call out.

"_Baa Kulatooch! Eiuwak muk nüto wasaman._" Hey Sarge! They are just kids.

_I know this line!_ Recognizing the code words, he looked down at his arm. The ink had become garbled, but he managed to read it.

"_Tuka! Mebak nüto hapan ütaaqabuq apuk na wisimus._" Look! We just need directions to town. He spoke the line as if he were reading it of off the back of a cereal box. When he had finished speaking the password, he looked up from his arm, grinning a grin that made the soldier, and the other men think: What a punk moron.

"_Buqnuk!_" See! Spoke the defending man.

"_Kech éaq musik kopapaaqa._" I am still suspicious. Protested the soldier.

"_Kochak bakuma kopasaaqa,_" Your always suspicious, the man walked over to the teenager's transportation, stopping in front of the fender. "_Tuka! Cha eiuwak kumus nimukona na bisusmus panaqôn, müis eiuwak chapuq aba kuchun nip ma üqamaat ik nisuk muchat hiqaach._" Look! If they were going to commit a felony, they would not go around in a piece of crap like this. Making his point, the man laid his hand down on the hatch. At that point, the front bumper and hubcaps fell off, as well as a good deal of steam came out of the radiator.

The man looked at the car sheepishly, then looked back to the soldier. He pointed towards the piece of crap, nodding his head and placing his other hand on his hip.

"_Chisut huk bakit._" Point well taken. Agreed the soldier.

_Okay, what just happened?_ Zell asked himself.

Not wanting to waste more time, the Galbadian soldier left, leaving the two other men to deal with the travelers.

The second of the men, was taller, and blonder, then the other. He approached them. For a while, Zell was a little uneasy, but neither the blonde, nor the smaller man, held any aggression in their faces. The short man walked towards Selphie, handing her a piece of paper. She took the paper without word, while the taller man looked over to Zell.

"_Ika Hamutok Subaamin._" For the Forest Owls.

The two of the men signalled with their hands for them to get in the car, as they made their way back to their posts.

Selphie walked up to Zell, showing him the piece of paper she had received.

"'Tis directions to the Forest Owls' new base."

"Awesome." Agreed Zell. "Thanks, you guys!" He shouted in Balambese.

The Galbadian soldier turned to them with suspicion at hearing the Balambese language, while the two Forest Owls turned in a state of urgency.

Quickly, Selphie and Zell got back into the car. Slamming the doors shut, they zoomed out of the block as fast as they could before they were called back for further questioning.

§

Rinoa Heartily sat at a desk in her new, third story room. The other members of the Forest Owls took the news of her new sorceress powers very well. They had, in the strictest sense, went into a frenzy of hooting, thinking her more of a trump card then a threat. Not that she minded what she was to them, as long as it got that monkey off her back.

That didn't mean so for the rest of Timber. Thus far, none of Timber actually knew she had received anything but a close call with Galbadia. She was determined, though, to set things straight before they got crooked. With her particular position, her choices were slim, but she finally found a niche by writing editorials for the National Squeal, the next best thing to an anti-government publishing since the Timber Maniacs.

The fact that the group was positioned out in the middle of the Roshfall Forest wasn't helping in the matters of transportation, so Rinoa had taken on the art of teleportation. It turned out to be easier then she thought, she just couldn't transport more then one person at a time.

As for their new base, their leader, Zone, decided to move it out into the woods, where they would occupy the old homestead that belonged to the Hutchins family line. Now abandoned, and not known by any Galbadian, it was thought to be the perfect place to set up shop.

It was too bad that they didn't have a computer. The act of writing out everything by hand wasn't lightening the load a single bit.

"…And in conclusion," Rinoa spoke as she was writing, "the need to undergo the continued act of fire against fire against the Galbadians will, in the end, lead us nowhere. So it is advised that we, the people of Timber, should resist the need to fight on with force, but send out our words as the bullets. As for the Galbadians, who don't seem to mind using their guns at all…" She paused as she thought of what to say about them.

"Angelo," she addressed her dog, turning her chair around to look at the dark brown animal, resting in the middle of the floor. "Help me out here. What should I say about the Galbadians?"

In response, Angelo yawned.

Seeing as how she wouldn't be any help to her, Rinoa turned back to her editorial. "…Screw them." She spoke, than wrote it down.

_I should be the one to talk._ She thought sadly. _Here I am, in a resistance group based on movements both violent and non._

Just as she was admiring her handiwork, she heard a car approach.

_I wonder who that could be?_

She looked out of her bedroom window, and spotted a beat up cyan car making its way down the dusty road. She knew it wasn't a Galbadian in the car, since they tended to drive bigger, and nicer looking vehicles. And it couldn't have been a member of their resistance, since both Watts and Mordechai had left in a burgundy car, and it was a lot nicer then that one.

_Then that means…_

§

As the old homestead came in to view, Zell put his foot onto the brake, only to find out that the brake wasn't working.

"Zell," whined Selphie, "you can stop now."

"I can't! The breaks are out."

"You try floorn' them?"

"That's just what I'm doing!"

Both the SeeDs let out panicked screams as they headed towards a group of boys around their age. Zell swerved the car wildly, as the people outside scurried about, trying to get out of their way. Dust flew up as the car was steered in circles. Both of the passengers looked around frantically for something to slow them down.

"It's no use, Selphie." Started Zell in a panic. "We may have to stop this car with our feat."

"No need! We can slow ourselves down with those bushes over there."

Zell saw what Selphie was talking about. He swerved the car in the direction beside the house, crashing into the overgrown hedges. The foliage swept across the windshield as the car began to slow down against them. Finally, the car came to a complete stop, but not before it knocked over a small, wooden building that was apparently the outhouse.

As the humour of coincidence went, someone just happened to be on the john at the time.

"Uchühun bumak!" How rude! The guy said.

Shaken, but not beaten, the two mercenaries got out of the car. They were greeted by a group of the Forest Owls, all speaking frantically in Mainstream.

A voice came from behind the shaken group. "_Hanut chipuk, upabuk hestun! Kech ip tunachooka!_" Make way, coming through! I am the translator!

Coming out from the crowd was an all too familiar face to the two SeeDs: Rinoa.

"Thank Hyne your here." She started in Alcauldian. After hearing nothing but Valoo and Mainstream, her use of Alcauldian, and her Classical Galbadian accent, was a welcome change to the two new arrivals. "Can any of you cook? Zone has a lot of recipes, but he can't really cook."

"I thought we were here for…" Began Selphie, but was cut off by a frantic Rinoa.

"First food, then, business."

"I can cook." Answered Zell in Alcauldian.

"I can't." Chided Selphie. "So don't ask."

Rinoa responded, "Awesome. Now, I've been wanting to ask you: How's Squall?"

"Last I saw him," started Zell, "he was puking his guts out in the bathroom."

"But he's alive. Right?"

"Unless it was his corpse lying face down on the toilet and making hacking sounds, then he's alive."

"There was a corpse on the toilet," whined an exasperated Selphie, slapping Zell on his shoulder, "and no one told me. Damn! You would have known that I'd be there in two seconds with my camera!"

_Okay._ Thought Rinoa. _He's alive at least._ It wasn't in her nature to hold things back, but she couldn't help but feel that she was responsible for his drastic actions.

She could remember him telling it to her face: But Rinoa, I thought I'd never see you again. The only translation she could draw was: If I can't see you in life, I'll see you in death.

It shook her moral that she would even think of things like that. In a way, she was glad to be away from him, if only for a while. Metaphorically a sculptor, she had once vowed to reshape that block of ice he called his heart. But, as her fifth grade teacher had said, she had no talent at sculpting. How right she was.

Now, she really hoped she could sit back and watch, lest, she incur more damage.

"Well," started Rinoa as a very excited Angelo bounded up beside her, "I'm guessing that you would want to go inside." She looked over to where Zell and Selphie had knocked over the outhouse.

The guy that had been on the toilet was still on there for some reason. "_Tun musin tuka. Itasmasim bachupik!_" Don't look! Partial nudity!

"What did he say?" Zell asked.

"What does it matter?" Retorted Rinoa. "I'm dying to show you around the place."

At hearing those words, Selphie jumped up and down with her usual pep. "Yay! A tour!" She eagerly took off after Rinoa and Angelo.

Zell stayed where he stood for a second, before he shouted to Rinoa. "Hey! Rinoa! Do you have any food in that house?"

"Sure," she answered, turning around, but still walking backwards. "We still have some nuts and berries some of the guys foraged for."

§

With his face stuffed in blue berries and chestnuts, Zell sat in the old living room of the Hutchin's homestead.

The room was in a bad need of a paint job, and one of the two large windows to his left was boarded up with white paper. The curtains on it were purple, old, and musty. Beside the door was placed an old, dark wooden oak desk. Despite the rest of the furniture, it was in relatively good condition, and would probably fetch good gill at an antique auction. The lentil of the door had fallen off a long time ago, and the nails that had held it there were exposed and rusted. Regardless of what shape the frame was in, the door was still there. Its paint was pealing, but it had an old classical feel to it, just like the rest of the house.

The walls were hung with old black-and-white pictures, as well as a few oil paintings of trees, animals, and one that especially caught Zell's eye, a painting of the GF Quezacotl. It felt funny to see it, as he happened to own that particular Guardian Force. If Quezacotl could have talked, he would sure have had something to say about it.

In the far corner of the room was an old grandfather clock, still ticking on, adding more of an air of classic grace to the homestead. Beside it, was probably the newest piece of furniture in the whole house! A TV. It was an old model, and probably black-and-white. Zell wouldn't have guessed that it would be of very good quality. No one expected to get rich being a member of a resistance group.

Above the TV was a glass bear. Shiny, brown, and semitransparent, except its black eyes. It looked as if it was ready to catch a fish in a rushing stream.

An old rug of blacks, whites, dark reds and greens was laid in the middle of the hardwood floor. When Rinoa had introduced the room on the tour, she had mentioned that there was a heated debate as to whether the rug was Balambese fashion, or North Willburn. Zell laughed at this, remarking that it was definitely Balambese. The geometric patterns and simple colour scheme denoted that fact.

On top of the rug was a coffee table of oak, same as the desk but lighter in colour. It was smeared with water rings, crayon marks, and several scratches. The legs of the furniture were carved in floral style, and ended in a lion's foot shape.

The couch he sat on was dulled and threadbare, but was probably green with yellow and orange flowers once, same with the armchair that was to the couch's right.

"This place is soooo cool!" Exclaimed Selphie as she pranced into the living room, sitting on the armchair and looking over at Zell and his berries. "I can imagine my own Grandma living in a place like this, if'n I knew my Grandma."

Zell looked at her with another mouthful of blue berries. "Really? I knew mine."

"I like this furniture." She continued. "The place could be painted, and this rug could use a good scubbn', but otherwise, 'tis good, aye?"

"Since when did you become so good at home decor?"

"I'm from Trabia Garden. You don't go through their curriculum without learning a thing or two about home decorating."

"That must have been a pretty shabby Garden?"

"Oh, 'twas. Well, until it got blown up."

A sudden slamming came from the front door, situated in the porch that was just outside the living room. Through the open door ran, whom both Zell and Selphie recognized as, Watts.

Watts was the chief spy of Forest Owls, and a darn good one. There wasn't a lot that could be hidden from him, which was a problem in the areas of hiding chocolate and sugary delights. When they first met him, it was on the old base inside a train car. It was him who had divulged the information that the president of Galbadia was in their territory, and it was him who divulged the codes that allowed for them to disconnect his train in Timber. Watts also had the habit of addressing everyone as 'sir', or 'ma'am'. Zell also realized that it was he at the roadblock.

_I must congratulate their makeup artist on making him convincingly look older._

"_Wupum, üqwin._" Hello, sir. He greeted, lifting himself over the couch and seating himself on the floor. He had several documents under his arm and he set them all on the coffee table. He positioned himself on his knees and started to sort the pile out.

Both Zell and Selphie had guessed early what _üqwin_ meant, and were pretty sure that _wupum_, was some kind of greeting, or form of address. So they responded.

Zell gave him a Balambese greeting. "_Escola._" Hey

Selphie just gave a little wave and a smile.

The rest of the group crowded into the living room. The leader, Zone, took a seat on the far left of the couch, with Rinoa in the middle of him and Zell. The rest clamoured all around the coffee table. It was apparent that they were all there to discuss the documents Watts had acquired.

"What have you got there'?" Zone asked Watts in Mainstream Timber, his accent seaming to bounce his words while giving them that 'soft' tone.

"I got these in back of the checking point sir." He replied while filing through the papers some more. "I can't believe the stupidity of the solders put in charge their sir. Me n' Mordechai here were able to take these out with no risk." He put his hand on a taller blonde guy with freckles. Zell could assume that he was the other guy at the roadblock.

Watts continued, "It looks as if they're expecting a real important delivery from Galbadia sir."

"How do you figure?" Asked some scrawny guy in a gray bunny hug.

"Because." He answered, not sounding annoyed in the least. "It say here: Expecting delivery in five to seven days."

"HOLY CRAP!" Screeched Zone. "And you just walked out of there as if nothing happened?"

This time, the guy named Mordechai spoke. "That's right. The Galbadian bully didn't look at us once since the SeeDs got here."

At the mentioning of the SeeDs, the group turned to look at Selphie and Zell. The girl was giving them her best, and cheesiest smile, while Zell was wiping away the last of the berry juice form his chin; with his arm.


	4. Around and About

4

Around and About

As the floating behemoth of Balamb Garden hovered above the ocean between Dollet and Balamb, the afternoon sun had become masked in a light, but grey, vial of clouds, indicating a light shower.

Sindri had just completed one of his afternoon classes and had about a half hour until his next.

_I don't know why I bother? I'm not going to become a SeeD._ His pessimistic side spoke.

No one had ever given him any credit for what he did. When he tried hard, he got a meter stick on the shoulder, if he paid attention in class, he got yelled at. And when he ever tried to show any promise, they would always proclaim he wasn't good enough. That had been the reason he had joined up with Nida. The whole notion of changing the Garden paradigm had sounded farfetched at first, but if he could promise that he would be needed, Sindri was there. He just wasn't sure he agreed with the whole 'kill Headmaster Cid' idea, but it was second nature to always rethink things, at least for him.

Speaking of whom, he was on his way to meet Yuri, who had stated earlier that he needed to talk to someone 'in the circle'. Of coarse, Sindri was sceptical, but when wasn't he? So he agreed.

Of all the places in the Garden that were remote, Yuri had to choose the most disgusting, vile, and barbaric place to meet: the boy's washroom.

Since the basic sanitary conditions of the washrooms were left to the students, the walls were used as a free-for-all of tasteless bathroom humour and bad drawings, excluding the painting that was featured on the wall between the actual washroom, and the room with the showers. Besides that, the rules that applied to every student in Garden apparently had no effect in that place. It was absolutely shocking how many curses the average male student actually gushed out when in there! Thank goodness that the junior classmen didn't go near the place.

Passing the first few dorms, Sindri came to the middle of the dormitory where the older student's washrooms were positioned. Pushing the heavy grey door open, he was greeted by the smell of urine and pine. No matter how many times the urinals were cleaned, they still reeked under the 'pretty' smells.

The room was covered with inked graffiti of bad jokes and dumb catchphrases. To his right were five urinals, and to his left, five stalls. Straight forwards, there was the door that led to the showers, and the sinks. The doorway also held that magnificent painting that dazzled absolutely everybody, not only because it was such a welcome change from the no-talent art and literature, but also because it was mysterious. Appearing about five years ago in the space of one night, no one really knew how it got there, and no one was willing to wash it off.

The painting held a focus of two purple snakes entwining what looked like a gold and blue tiger with ram's horns and vulture wings. The tiger had no stripes, but it did have spots positioned so it looked like it had stripes. It also had three spaded, red tipped tails, and its wings were a brilliant mix of white, cyan, and pink, intermingled to give it a sparkling appearance. As for the background, it looked like a darkened side of rock, but arguments ranged from dragon skin, to the inside of a monster.

He walked in further, his sneakers squeaked over the brown and red tile of the floor. The walls were of large concrete bricks, painted white. The ceiling was also white, and glowed with a single neon light fixture that started at the top of the door, and went to the other end of the shower room. Yuri was waiting for him on the other side of the mural door, leaning against the sinks and looking blankly at the shower stalls.

When Sindri stepped in, he seamed immediately pleased, getting off the sink ledge and moving towards him.

"Hey." Yuri addressed.

"Hey." Was the response from Sindri.

Both of them paused for a while in the doorway, not really having much to say, until Sindri broke the ice.

"Do you think it's okay to talk here, someone could come in any minute!"

"Relax," the other assured. "I'm not here to talk about anything incriminating, I just need to vent some useless gossip."

Sindri felt perplexed. "And you get me for that."

"Of coarse, you're the one I trust the most out of the group."

"Even Nida?"

"Especially Nida! You don't discuss useless gossip with the ring leader!"

"What about Rick?"

"Oh please! He couldn't be interested in anything for more then five seconds."

"What about Brokk?"

"**I** can't stay interested in anything that guy says for more then three seconds!"

"What about Kord?"

"You kiddn'! I can't talk to a girl!"

"What about Dina?"

"What did I just say?"

"Then what about Yagi?"

"I'll let you know I have a personnel grudge against that name."

"Then what about Yuri?"

"I am Yuri!"

Well, that shut him up.

"So," began Sindri on a new topic, setting himself on the shelf that held the sinks, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Useless gossip, man." Came the answer. "Hey, did you here that Quistis was making out with Squall?"

Sindri was giddy with excitement. "Really, where did you here that?"

"Some ex-Galbadian student in chaps and a felt cowboy hat. Brokk or Rick probably know him."

"You mean that a Galb student actually talked to you! But they never wander out of their circle!"

"Yeah, well, this one did. And check this, he could speak Alcauldian!"

Yuri received a blank expression from the dark blonde. "Boy, you can really kick start a conversation, can't you?" Retorted Sindri.

"You heard nothing yet." Yuri remarked. "Apparently, Quistis and Squall are suspected to have had some 'personnel' interactions while they were away on that Sorceress Skirmishy-thing."

"What about that Sorceress they came back with?"

"Hey! This is just what I heard! The guy creamed two of the biggest, badest bitches in history! I'm not spreading any more dirt around his name. Hell! I'm just glad he's on our side!"

No argument there. Headmaster Cid had been wise to put him in charge of the last crusade against the Sorceress. The clincher was that he had returned with a Sorceress. It would have been a fairy tale if they had accepted her, but, truth be told, life was no fairy tale, and that woman made waves. Lucky for her, she didn't stick around too long, or her head would have been on a platter. There had been a small group who had been curious about this new mage, Sindri knew, and he had been one of them. It was only among those few people that any real truths were exchanged. For one, he had gotten her name, but had unfortunately forgotten it. Another was that he had witnessed her holding Squall up as he hobbled around the ballroom, mimicking a pathetic attempt to look healthy. It looked as if that Sorceress had an attachment to their ex-commander.

Since that woman wasn't at all known, not alone liked, students were quick to throw Quistis and him together for more of a romantic twist. The teacher/student requiem of forbidden fruit was a delicious morsel for gossip all throughout the Garden, and was easily swallowed, even though Quistis was an ex-instructor. The Sorceress sympathizers, on the other hand, had paired him with the Sorceress for the shear love of irony. It was also rumoured that the new Sorceress was responsible for his current ailment. Since many of the students, excluding the Galbadains, and the newest junior classmen, saw Squall as morbid, and somewhat depraved, they didn't dismiss the fact of attempted suicide. So it was one of the smaller rumours surrounding the woman.

Sindri perked up, his long, bony face gave way to a smile. "Have you heard the stories about Ifrit's Bane?"

"Now who's making conversation?" Snickered Yuri.

"No, I'm serious. Some volcanologists who've been studying those cones have found rising activity that may, or may not, set the volcano of within the year."

"You have a lot to learn about gossip," Yuri started with an annoyed tone. "Number one: no exchange of facts, just unproved rumours." He walked away a few steps, than leaned back against on of the yellow shower stalls.

"What's number two?"

"What number two?"

"Number two of gossip!"

"I didn't say there was a number two, now did I?"

"Then why did you say 'number one'?"

"Because everything sounds better when they're numbered."

He was stuck, Sindri couldn't carry that conversation on anymore, or he may have gotten criticized again. Both him and Yuri were a bit low on the self-confidence scale. They both loved to pick out other people's faults and chew on them. It was the way with most of them, even Nida had a few of those bad qualities, even though he was more able to hide them then anyone else.

A saying that had been circulating around Garden since its establishment was that you could tell a lot about a person by their chosen weapon. It wasn't a wide known fact, but Nida's chosen weapon was the pike. Neither of them could make heads or tails of why he rarely brought it out. Maybe it was because he was rarely called away. The flimsy look of the pike gave way to the impression of aggression in weakness, but the blood gushing head of the weapon suggested cunning in force. Deciphering that knowledge, and the unspoken philosophy of weapons, that said that he could change from weakling to savage in the flick a tail. Yuri used a nunchaku, a common weapon of use in Garden. It's apparent strength and added bonus of less learning time meant that the person wielding them had more gusto then meets the eye. So far, the philosophy was true, since most of the students using that weapon tended to be small and delicate looking. Yuri was small, fair skinned with a round face, he could certainly fool people into thinking he was an all-time wussamatic.

Sindri had the chosen weapon of the bow, and cross bow. He didn't think much about what it said about him; neither did he really know what it said about any personality. He was a walking skeleton! What would any weapon say about him?

"Back to business," Yuri started, still leaning on the shower door, "Nida's suspicious of Leonhart."

"You said we wouldn't talk about anything incriminating!" A shocked Sindri gasped.

"Who said I am, I'm just saying that Nida doesn't like Squall."

Sindri kept motioning with his hands to keep it down.

"What are you so worried about, Sindri?" He asked.

"I'm worried that someone might hear you."

"In this place!" Scoffed Yuri. "This isn't the girl's washroom. No one comes here twice in the same hour after lunch."

To prove him wrong, someone rushed into the lavatory, and slammed the door to one of the toilet stalls. The sound of puking and gagging fallowed shortly after.

Both Yuri and Sindri looked, for a second, towards the source of this sound. Then, Yuri turned back to look at his conversationalist receiver.

"So are you ready for the Weekend?"

"What weekend?" Sindri started.

The intruder coaxed another suffering gag.

Yuri continued regardless. "You know. The Weekend."

"Oh, that Weekend."

The Weekend was the name coined to only a single day in the summer when everybody that wasn't away on a mission had the day off. It was also known as a more spontaneous, less expensive form of the Garden Festival, only recognized by the staff as an official holiday after the Summer Riot that happened five years ago. To give everyone something to do, the staff allowed an extra holiday to lighten up boredom. For every year that they were there, they had always had the Weekend on the Alcauld plains, or the forest, regardless of the fact that it was swarming with dinosaurs, flesh eating caterpillars, and overgrown bugs. That year, however, there was word that they were going to spend it somewhere in Roshfall, Timber.

"Yeees, that Weekend." Yuri repeated rather slyly.

The intruder gagged again. This time, Sindri felt the need to investigate.

Leaving the area with the showers, he came forward towards the sound, and knocked forcefully on the stall.

"Are you okay?" He asked a bit worried that he would have to resort to getting the doctor.

"BUZZ OFF!" Came the harsh reply.

_I guess he's okay._ Thought Sindri, not daring to press the matter further. Yuri came up from behind him, not looking nearly as concerned.

He looked over towards the thin boy. "Let's continue this conversation in the parking lot."

Neither of them could withdraw that notion, so they left.

Outside the washrooms, they were met up with an exasperated student. Yuri couldn't miss that hat, or the rest of the attire. It was the same Galbadian student who badmouthed both Quistis's, and Squall's good name. Irvine, the Fanatical Matchmaker.

"Hey, I know you!" Began Yuri with wild astonishment on his face.

"And I know you too." Pointed Irvine, huffing a puffing from running, looking down at the shorter blonde. "You're the one who, like, couldn't open your own pudding can." To the two candidates, he spoke in their native tongue for their benefit, but still kept his New Galbadian accent.

Sindri gave a slight chuckle. The thought of someone at the age of fourteen not being able to open their own pudding can was more then just hilarious.

"So," began Sindri, "you're the one spreading rumours about Quistis and Squall? I give you credit that your still alive."

"You kidding me! I'm hoping I'll still be alive by this evening!"

An exasperated and angry voice sounded from some way back in the dorms. "KINNEAS!"

Irvine jumped at the sudden mention of his name. "Oh, crud! It's Quistis!" He turned to the two candidates. "Hide me! Hide me! Hide me! Hide me…"

"Well," started Yuri, "you could hide in the boy's washroom here."

"Quistis has been a SeeD for five and some years." Complained Irvine, "a gender related place such as the boy's washroom ain't gonna keep her out!"

"Well, it's either that, or the heating duct."

A shadow became apparent from only a few feet away. Irvine looked at this moving spectre and gasped in fright.

"I'll take my chances." He remarked, and ran into the washroom.

If the door weren't so hydrolic, then he just may have slammed it shut behind him. He took in a few breaths to get his barrings straight. From outside, he could here the footsteps of Quistis's boots, but he did not stay to the door long to hear what she would say to the two candidates.

The washrooms were a freakish nightmare as always. It was amazing that anyone could go pee in that place. He knew from experience that stuff you couldn't see anywhere else in Garden, you could see here. In a way, the place was more wild then the training centre. Where else could one write: 'Normen! Kiss my ass!!!' or 'Braiden bitchn' ROCKS!'

A sharp gagging, fallowed by what sounded like canned soup being dumped in a ceramic bowl, came from one of the stalls. Irvine looked towards the sound quizzically for a second before he neared.

The door to the stall was an impossible mess of lowbrow lines written in Balambese alphabet, almost illegible unless one wanted to look long and hard. But Irvine could make out the scrawled, and large lettering of: 'Quistis is sexalicious. XXX Trepie No. 666', 'I KICK ASS AND PROUD OF IT!!!!!!', and 'porno is for desperate losers who can't get some, (I'm one of them)'. That last one he read seamed familiar, and then he remembered that it was him who wrote it.

The gagging came again. Irvine would have just pushed the stall door open, but he had a better idea. In the open stall immediately to his left, he stood on top of the toilet and peered down over the dwarfed walls.

As soon as he saw who was in there, he felt obliged to say: "Shouldn't you be in your lair, guarding your horde?"

Leaning over an open toilet bowl, with the upturned lid reading 'I can see your bum', and 'say hi to Mr. P.P. Tinkler', was Squall, who was busy hacking up his lunch.

Squall looked up from the toilet he was throwing up in. "Shouldn't you be in class, getting on the instructor's nerves?"

"Woah, easy there!" Compelled Irvine with a show of hands, seaming to push Squall away. "I ain't no dragon slayer."

"And I ain't happy you showed up!" Hissed the receiving end.

"Do I sense sarcasm?"

"If you don't leave," growled Squall, "you're going to sense a toilet seat lodged up your nose!"

_Okay,_ Irvine thought to himself, _he's defiantly pissed. So this may be a good time to shut up._

It just so happened, that the candidates outside had squealed on him, and into the washrooms barged Quistis.

Seeing this sight, Irvine felt the need to give another retort, instead of facing the Black Dragon's fury, again. "Out of all the things I've seen in this place, this is the strangest." Squall gave another coughing hack as a response.

"Stow it Kinneas." Forcefully demanded Quistis. "You've been spreading worse rumours about me then that goddamn fan club of mine!" She pointed menacingly at him in accusation.

"Well, what did you expect," stuttered Irvine, "I guy's imagination can, like, run away with him at times."

Quistis looked angrily at him. "That's no reason why I shouldn't skin you alive."

Before Irvine could make another comeback, Squall vomited again.

"Who's in there?" Asked Quistis, not loosing much of her angry look to curiosity.

"Why, I thought you'd never ask." Irvine cooed, feeling relieved that the subject had been changed. "For behind this door, is, like, none other then Balamb Garden's most lovable ogre: Squall Leonhart!"

Squall was not in the least bit entertained, and he proved his point by managing to throw the toilet seat at him. His GF, Bahamut, fortunately gave him the quick strength to perform the feet. Irvine dogged by mere millimeters.

Laughing out loud, Quistis shouted towards Squall. "Now throw the whole toilet at him for me!"

"Not for awhile." Came the response.

"That's good news," responded Irvine, looking down at an enraged Leonhart, "but if you can throw a toilet seat, how come you can't use your gunblade?"

"I don't throw my gunblade, you ass!"

Quistis looked away from the toilet stall, back to Irvine. "Now, back to business."

"Chill, Trepe," responded Irvine with a suave note, "It's only, like, a harmless rumour that'll die off in about two days."

"For your sake, it had better. Or else my whip will be around your neck for the next two months!"

"Hey, don't take it too hard, Squall's takin' it fine. Ain'tcha Squall?" He looked down at the kneeling figure, leaning over the toilet.

"My philosophy is:" he started up at him, "don't get mad. Get even."

Irvine gave a shocked look as he slowly got off his pedestal and backed away, only turning his back as he ran out the door.

For a moment, Quistis looked towards the closed door where Irvine had just left, until she turned to the closed door of the stall.

"You have something nasty planned for him. Don't you?" She asked matter-of-factly.

"Correction." Stated Squall, "I _had_ something planned for him."

Quistis gave a brief thought to what this meant before she continued. "You haven't done anything. Have you?"

"Who says I haven't?"

"Well, it's good to see you didn't forget to take your medication." Replied Quistis, cunningly changing the subject.

"Not if you were the one taking them." Indeed, one of the reasons he was throwing up constantly was the side effect of two of the four prescription drugs.

The door opened, allowing two candidates in: Sindri and Yuri. The two stopped when they saw Quistis, standing in the boy's washroom.

In turn, Quistis gave the boys a nasty look. "There's nothing in here I didn't see when Squall blew the centre wall into the parking lot."

At the mention, of his name, Squall burst out of the stall, looking at the three before him as if they were plotting to kill him.

He spoke on behalf of a half-hearted defence. "If that wall didn't want to be blown half way across the Garden, it shouldn't have gotten in the way of advanced chemistry!"

The three of them gazed upon his shabby form. His hair scuffed and tossed about, clear that he hadn't brushed it at all. The fur on his collar was furled and out of place, as his white shirt was wrinkled and dishevelled. And to those who were especially observant, which was everybody in the room, would have noticed his eyes were bloodshot.

"Uh, Squall." started Sindri.

"Yes!" The SeeD snapped.

Sindri recoiled in surprise at the strength in his voice, but continued. "It's twelve thirty in the afternoon. Why do you look like its seven thirty in the morning?"

"WHO TOLD YOU TO ASK QUESTIONS!" Shouted Squall, drool splattering out of his mouth as he did so. Sindri recoiled once again, this time in fear rather then surprise.

"It's the drugs he's on." Quistis answered.

"Is that what's making him cranky?" Yuri questioned.

"Possibly." The answer came, "but I was referring to the blood shot eyes." Quistis looked at the two candidates as they looked at each other, and then back at Squall. He looked like his eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets from anger.

Yuri looked back at Quistis. "Why did that student run out of here so fast? He looked as if he had forgotten something very important."

Quistis gave the candidates a wry look. "You mean Irvine? Well, as you know, there is this rumour spreading," the candidates nodded slowly, careful not to meet Squall's eyes. "Now," continued Quistis, "I threatened him directly, while Squall threatened him indirectly."

Both the candidates, with a stunned look each, dared a glance towards Squall. But he wasn't there. The soft woosh of the hydrolic door indicated that he had left.

"Wait for it," Quistis told them. "Irvine should be just running down the hall. Now, he opens the door too his room, and…"

A loud cry of anguish came from the west wing on the dorms.

"NOOOOOOO!"

§

The Hutchin's old living room was crowded with rebels and a couple of mercenaries. All, either sitting on the couch, or beside the centrefold of the coffee table.

A large blueprint was settled on top. As well as few other documents were positioned under it. Standing in front of the table was Zone, holding a willow branch in his right hand.

"Now," started he in Mainstream, "I assume you all know why we are here?"

A few sarcastic murmurs arose, but Zone chose to ignore them. "I assume that is a 'yes'." More sarcastic murmurs came.

"Terrific. Now, first of all, I'd like to thank Mordechai and Watts for obtaining this information."

"Shut up and get to the point." Someone shouted.

"In a sec, but first…Oh, my stomach!" He leaned over from the nagging pain of his 'Ulcers', running out of the room, dropping his willow branch as he dashed away.

Rinoa stepped forward as he left, taking up his willow stick.

"So, as you can see," she began with her Aussie sounding Classic Galbadian accent, "the blueprints are of the main floor of the Domane house. The well-to-dos of Galbadia, and Timber, if any, are throwing a shindig for reasons we will assume, are to cover up the arrival of their delivery."

The present Forest Owls nodded in agreement, but not the SeeDs, as they still couldn't speak Mainstream.

"Now, from the convenience of side notes, we know that security is tight." She continued, using the willow branch to point at specific spots on the blue print. "They've got motion sensors, trip lazars, a guard dog or two, and several dozen moskeetoes."

"Moskeetoes!" Piped a member in astonishment. "Those ancient things?"

Moskeetoes, like their newer counterparts, wazps, were manufactured in Galbadia for security purposes. The wazps were a highly developed detection machine capable of signalling other wazps if needed, with light weaponry, and even a slight ability to learn. Although, they were heavy, and slow, and did not function well alone, so they had to be ordered by the dozen, which cost two arms and a leg, even in Galbadian gill, so they were rarely used for personal purposes. The moskeetoes, on the other hand, were an older model. They couldn't multitask, call on other moskeetoes, or even shoot, but they were fast, cheap, and quite able to function in a unit of one or two. Even though they lacked the ability to call upon one another, they could still alert security, since they were designed to have their detection units upgraded and even changed for gill that a convenience store clerk could afford.

Rinoa answered the question bluntly, "yes." Continuing thoroughly as before, she pointed towards a small square at the back of the house. "This is the security shack here in back. Three security guards will be there from the start of the party to twelve. After those hours, there will be a shift change with two others.

"Looking over the blueprints, we have found four entrances into the mansion. The first is the front entrance. The second, being the back door near the security shack. The third is any of the fourth floor windows on the east side of the house. The fourth is a secret entrance that goes into the basement.

"We'll split into four groups. The Viral team will be made up of Watts, Mordechai, Angelo, and myself. We'll make the first move by taking control of the security shack. This will cut our detection in half with those moskeetoes, and also, disarm the lazars and motion sensors.

"The second team, the Decoy team, will be made up of Rind, Andy, Red Hawk, and Spikes." She motioned towards the four young men she mentioned. Rind was a tall character in a dirty rawhide vest, a tattered old T-shirt that read 'Bite Me, Paul Grossmen', and a pair of rather large corduroys. He had dark hair that hung past his shoulders, as well as a pair of bifocals. Andy looked similar, as he was tall, with an oval shaped face and dark hair, but the hair was shorter, he didn't wear glasses, and his clothes didn't look as old. Red Hawk was the scrawny guy in a bunny hug that had spoken earlier. As his name suggested, he not only had the reddest hair to probably grace existence, but also had a tattoo of a red bird on his forehead, set in flight. It was hard to see how Spikes got his nickname. The guy was a slim subject, light brown hair and dark green eyes. He wore a dark green bandana around his head, and both of his ears were pierced. Besides that, there was nothing spiky about him, not even his hair. He almost looked like the kind of prey a school bully would pick on.

"The Decoy team will be going into the party under cover." Explained Rinoa, still speaking in Mainstream. "They will give us word about what's going on inside. The Scavenger team will be made up of the SeeDs: Zell and Selphie."

She turned to the two, who had taken up most of the couch, and spoke in Galbadian. "Zell, Selphie. You two will infiltrate in through the fourth entrance to the basement.

"Now, this is important, even though the lazars and sensors will be disabled, the moskeetoes will still be able to call for help, so if you see one, squash it before it gets away. In fact, don't let anythin' get in your way."

"So," Began Zell, also in Galbadain, "does this mean we kill on site?"

"Yes."

The rest of the Forest Owls stared in shock at the two SeeDs, for they had understood everything Rinoa had said, as well as what Zell had asked.

"You didn't say they could speak Galbadain." Concluded Rind with scepticism. The rest of the group concurred, as they could all speak some form of Galbadian.

"Rind, they aren't local bounty hunters," reassured Rinoa, who was still using Galbadian, "these are SeeDs, and worth every gill."

Selphie kicked into the conversation. "Damn straight!"

The Forest Owls looked at the two once more with aw, as they realized they could always communicate with them, and didn't have to rely on constant translation.

Selphie and Zell took great humour out of this, laughing themselves silly while Rinoa just gave a wry smile and shrugged.

The meeting continued as soon as the two SeeDs stopped laughing, and the rebels stopped gawking.

"The fourth team, the Lookout, will be made of the rest of us. This group will surround the premises and 'lookout' for trouble. You will each be given one of the wakie-talkies we swiped from the Forest Rangers." She held up one of the hand held machines to emphasize. "Now, of course, two of the members of the Lookout will be driving getaway vehicles. Lucky will drive our car that will deliver the Decoy team, and Brine will drive that damn beat up peice of crap car that will be used by the Scavenger team. Be ready to run at any moment.

"That pretty well covers our basic plans, we'll get into more detail later."

Through the lentil-less door of the living room, plodded in Zone.

"Okay, I bet you are all waiting to hear the plan?" He asked contentedly in Mainstream.

"Too late." Replied Rinoa.

"Oh," he slouched his shoulders, realizing he had just missed another debriefing.

Brine, tanned of skin and void of any hair, turned around from his seat in front of the coffee table. "You know Zone," he stated in Mainstream, "you wouldn't have this kind of trouble if you brought the flower with you."

"What! With my black thumb?" Quipped Zone, holding his thumb up in front of him.

§

"'Tis beautiful." Replied Selphie in awe as she was shown a red ceramic flowerpot, holding a dainty looking flower. It held eight petals, all of which were shimmering white, with the tips of the petals melting into a fluorescent pink. The pollen appeared as tiny golden flecks, while the stem beneath it was grey and prickly. With the only leaves, showing grey, then a sullen green, were right at the bottom with the dirt.

"It's called a Pearl Lilly." Rinoa told her, holding up the pot to show. "The leaves have special medicinal purposes. It's what Zone has been using to avoid going to the doctor. I don't blame him, none of us can afford one any way. We all say that he should carry it around more often, but that just doesn't happen."

Both the girls were sitting in the kitchen. A single round table was set in the middle, with a classical red and white-checkered tablecloth that had several dozen stains, and several tears. Two chairs were placed nearby, Rinoa occupied one of them, and they were both made of birch. The cupboards were of spruce, and looking rather good for their years, even though most of the doors were broken off, revealing the Forest Owls' stores of fruit baskets, canned goods, blue cheese, paper plates, and wooden cups. The counter top that was only positioned under the only window was covered in dull yellow tile, with several of the tiles pealing off near the edge of the sink, displaying a grid of groute beneath. The curtains of the old window were yellow and floral. But, by the look of the blackness near their hems, they had been exposed to some heat. An old toaster was set in the corner. The shine from it was still there, but had been mulled by water stains. Beside the door that led into the hallway, was a green fridge with a silver 'V' on the freezer. The floor of the kitchen was made up of dark red and brown tile, finishing off the earthy tones of the room.

Selphie continued to coo. "Its soooo pretty. Watchya pay to get a gemstick like this deary?"

"Absolutely jack. They grow in certain places in the woods. We rent a chocobo to get too them."

"Chocobo." Selphie started, looking up from the flower to Rinoa's face. "There's a place to rent chocobo's?" Her face lit up at the mention. She loved the huge yellow birds, and was not shy to chocobo riding. She especially loved chocobo hatchlings, respectively called chicabos. Selphie knew that Squall had gotten one sometime after the Balamb Garden was found mobile, but she hadn't a clue as to what happened to the little thing.

"There's a farm fifty miles north west of Timber that raises them." Continued Rinoa. "Zone was thinking about buying one, but then, you know, we have to feed it, and wash it, and house it, and take it to the vet. Etcetera, etcetera. So it's easier to just rent one."

"For how much?"

"Fifty gill a day."

"Sweat! But wouldn't the bill add up after awhile?"

"Well, you see, that's what a lot of us thought, but we decided to take a seed and grow them. All we really need are the leaves, and they grow fast enough. They're vary hardy plants, and are able to grow even in the dry season, but they have enough gusto too take the humidity of the forest during the summer."

"Cool, I'm thinking I just found my new favourite flower."

Rinoa looked at her friend with earnest enthusiasm, putting the flowerpot down on the kitchen counter. "Really, it's bean mine since I started liking flowers."

"That's no fair, you got to it before me." She whined playfully.

"It's not my fault you don't see a lot of flowers in Trabia."

"Yeah, okay." Selphie admitted cheaply, and a little giggly, setting herself on the counter and waving her legs around like a small girl would. "Hey! Do you know what Squall's favourite flower is?"

"Selphie…" Rinoa snapped, then stopped. She had no idea how to continue that conversation, she had honestly hoped Selphie wouldn't bring him up. But, Selphie couldn't be counted on to _not_ bring anything up. How was Rinoa to answer anyway? She had only known Squall for short time, and he didn't strike Rinoa as the floral loving type. She decided to give a frank answer.

"You know," She began, "I don't think he likes flowers."

"You don't know that. You yourself happened to steel from another resistance group."

"Say what?"

"You know. The Forest Rangers."

"Oh, them. They aren't a resistance group. They patrol the forest, watch out for fires, keep the ol' cockatrice population down, and all that other forest stuff."

"You are bad, you know that?"

"Why, thank you."

"You know, I heard from Quistis that Squall is quit the pianist."

"He plays the piano?"

"Aye, can you believe it, he told me he didn't play an instrument. Lousy muzzler, he just didn't wanna be on the Garden Festival Committee."

_Makes sense. I'd go nuts if I had to take orders from the Ultimate Flower Child._ Rinoa thought. "What else do you know about him that I may find important?"

"Awk! Easy girl. I don't make a name of myself with gossip. 'Tis Zell's forté."

"Then why couldn't you stop talking when Squall regained consciousness?"

"Heeey! I get excited easily."

_And Zell doesn't?_

She had to agree with that statement. Even though Selphie was always on the lighter note of conversation, she couldn't beat Zell by a long shot.

Peering out of the kitchen door to the hallway with it's pealing floral wallpaper, she could see him leaning on the yellowing wall, talking to Brine and Red Hawk.

"…That was why I was blamed for the missing library books." Gabbled away Zell, in Galbadian. "By now, I'm in deep crap'o'la, so I go up to Squall and ask him: 'Yo man, what d'you do if you accidentally ate a month old grilled cheese sandwich and threw up on your instructor?' He tells me: 'why should I care?' and I say: 'cuz I may have put your ass on the 'que.' Then, Squall throws a fit and yells: 'only you could barf all over an instructor and drag someone else down the john!' and I'm like: 'gosh, you really think so?' and he says: 'hell yes!' So I ask him again: 'what do I do?' and he says: 'swipe his office supplies.' but I'm like: 'dude, you can't do that!' and he's like: 'yeah, I can.' Then he gets in trouble and has to deal with the Discipline Committee. Now, the head of the Committee, Seifer, he hates this guy more then the sun, so Seifer, he's bossing Squall around, and Squall gets this idea he can pull the circuit breaker on him. So he cuts power to the whole Garden, but not before he crosses the wires. So the Garden was in perpetual darkness for three days while several of the students are busy trying to find out how he screwed the circuits up…"

While Zell was still yapping away, Brine turned to Red Hawk. "I think I liked him better when we couldn't understand him." Red Hawk nodded in approval.

Both of them noticed Rinoa come into the hall. She motioned both of them away. The two left, gladly, while Zell continued to babble.

"…Seifer gets mad because the Headmaster assumes, heaven forbid, that Squall was his responsibility at the time…" Oblivious of the abandonment of Red Hawk and Brine, Zell still continued to jaw away. It took Rinoa several snaps of her fingers, a whistle, and a shout for him to shut up, before he did so.

"Yo, Rinoa. What's happening?" Greeted Zell, slipping back to Balambese.

"A little of this, a little of that." She began speaking in the same tongue. "I couldn't help but hear you say that Squall hates the sun. Was that just a metaphor you used, or does he actually hate the sun?"

Not so oddly enough, Zell began to chuckle. "Now that's a funny story. One time, the blinds in his room had been ripped off. How? I don't know why. But he didn't go back in there for a week, and he slept in the library the whole time. Now, the next week, he decides to get them up, 'cause he got tired of getting kicked all the time early in the morning by someone who wants to use the study booths. But he doesn't want to go in there, so he gets a meter stick from one of the classrooms, but the guy there, Scrivens, thought he was stealing. But, the guy's a nervous wreck, so he approaches Squall like he's some kind of rabid dragon. And do you know what he did next? Squall took it as a threat, and Scrivins…"

_This is worse then talking to an old man reminiscing about his missing teeth. I shouldn't have asked._ A regretful Rinoa thought to herself as Zell continued to blab into next weak.

§

The forecast of rain proved true, for a light shower met the afternoon over the sea. As Headmaster Cid conferred with his new language instructor, the double door to his office opened up. Irvine stepped onto the red throw rug.

The Headmaster and the language instructor looked towards him as he entered.

"Ah, Mrs. Dooglas," started Headmaster Cid, "this is one of our students: Irvine Kinneas. Now, Irvine, why are you here?" He mused, having the underside of annoyance in his last sentence.

"Well, sir. I'm here because you called me, and…whoa MOMMA! YOUR HOT!" He exclaimed excitedly as he clapped eyes on the short, lean and dark haired language instructor. "Are you a relative of a student, or staff?"

"She's your new Estharian language instructor." The Headmaster answered.

Irvine looked bashfully back at Instructor Dooglas. "Well, I sure feel stupid. Is there, like, any way I can take back what I said?"

The new instructor answered, "No, but thank you for noticing me." Spoke Instructor Dooglas with an Estharian accent, somewhat Germanic in sounding, and quite hard to understand reasonably thick ones. She then left the office, turning her back away. Irvine couldn't help but glance at her rear end as she left. Instructor or not, he was still seventeen with a strong sexual instinct.

"Now, Irvine," started the Headmaster when Instructor Dooglas had left. "I understand that you've run into a bit of a scuffle with Mr. Leonhart."

"Well, yeah. He, like, put a grat pie on my bed."

"Your lucky it wasn't a live grat. When one of the students started the rumour that it was four years bad luck to look him in the eye, that student found a living, breathing monster in her dorm that night."

"A grat!" Irvine gaffed humorously. "She couldda taken that over grown eggplant on."

"She was eight at the time."

"Oh, I see, but you can't blame Squall for pulling that at his age. It's a kid's way of getting attention."

"He was fourteen."

The student stopped his talking and looked concernedly at the Headmaster.

Not abated, the Headmaster continued to speak. "Now, just how did you come too this little run in?"

"Well sir, it all started with a rumour."

"You mean the one were Squall and Quistis were engaging in sexual activity in the back of the library?"

"Woah! Woah!" Quaffed Irvine. "I never got that graphic. Nor did I intend for this to, like, get all the way too you sir. What is this? A school, or a fish tank!"

"A little from column A, a little from column B." Answered the Headmaster. "I don't believe the rumours myself. But I'll tell you this: If Squall hears the version I have heard, you are going to wish you had that live grat!"

Irvine sulked to hear what the Headmaster just said. "Okay. But, aren't you goinna, like, punish him or something?"

"Irvine, Irvine, you know I would. But, you see, there are, in my opinion, three types of pranksters. The first, will throw pranks for the attention. The second do it for kicks. The third do it as a way of saying something."

The student looked dumbfounded at Headmaster Cid. "Come again."

"What I'm trying to say is, that I have noticed Squall has a limited ability to express his emotions. Whether it be joy, sorrow, fear, or, in this case, anger."

"So…are you goinna punish him?"

The Headmaster couldn't stifle a chuckle at those words. "Believe me, its been done. But every time he was disciplined for his pranks, they would become stranger and stranger, until it was finally nicknamed, the Dragon's Wrath."

"I thought those guys were joking." Referred Irvine to what several students had said the first day he arrived at the school. He had really thought they were just scaring him.

The two fell silent for a while, as neither had anything to say.

It was Irvine who broke the awkward silence. "So, you're not going to do anything about it?"

"I didn't say that." Headmaster Cid conferred bluntly, leaning his elbows on his oak desk. "I believe Squall's inability to express his emotions isn't learned, but possibly, innate. He could have a social illness, or, quite possibly, be neurotic. So I'm sending him to a psychological clinic in Dollet to get a diagnosis, so we can better, um, handle him. Feel better?"

"I think so? You called me for this? To tell me that your, like, sending Squall to a shrink."

"No, I have mentioned that I wanted to talk to you about your rumour."

"Cool. I've got to put that in my journal before I forget."

"I don't think that you would."

"Why not?"

"Because you've got a good memory."

"What about the GF's?"

"What about them?"

"Well, they cause memory loss. Or, at least that is what I have come to learn."

"That is merely tabloid fiction."

"Then what, may I ask sir, happened to Quistis's childhood memory, and Zell's, and Selphie's, and Squall's. They've forgotten everything."

"How many people do you know remember their earliest childhood?" Asked the Headmaster.

"Well, me, for one…"


	5. Pointless Endevour

5

Pointless Endeavour

Underneath the shallow pool of water stretched a cement ground, stretching to cement wall. The bluish ground reflected the refracted light from the waters surface, creating a mesmerizing, shimmering web of light, dancing over the concrete, as well as several coins. Each one depicted either the picture of an animal, or an elemental symbol. The cameo of several small bubbles marked the element of poison, and the tails' side depicted a cricket, it was the lowest of currency at one gill. A spade drop indicated water element, it depicted a fish on the other side, this coin stood for two gill. A single circle stood for earth, and depicted a mole on the back, this coin stood for five gill. There were only three of these coins on the floor, as not many were willing to part from them for obvious financial reasons.

But coins weren't the only thing that was at the bottom of the pool. There were several pebbles and rocks that made their way there, as well as the head of a doll, a copper key, several glass marbles, a brooch that held an imitation star sapphire, and an odd item that shone like, and even looked like it was made of amber. It was the richest of orange. Carved half-hazardly, but still skilfully, in the shape of a long tipped, curved sickle.

From above, a single hand penetrated the surface of the water, aiming towards the orange amber sickle. The hand was soon closely fallowed by a head. Dark hair swayed below the soft waves of the pool as the hand it belonged to picked up the amber sickle, returning with it to the surface.

Nida pulled himself out of the small moat, gasping for a good deal of air. The fact that the moat in the quad was so deep didn't lend itself to the efficiency of getting anything out of it easy. But he did manage to pull out what he wanted: the fist-sized amber sickle.

If it weren't for the fun that a couple of junior classmen had, playing catch with it, he might not have had to dive into the moat by the stairs. But, if he had put the piece of amber in his room, and not left it in one of the study booths in the library, he probably wouldn't have had to worry about searching half the garden for it.

The rain had come earlier that afternoon as he had piloted the Garden over Mandy Beach, but it had left, even though it was still a bit wet out. At least the sun shined. A few students, namely candidates, were playing hacky sack by the door. A few junior classmen were getting a game of floor hockey going below the quad stairs. Because it was still a bit wet, the game took of to a ravishing start, as the puck flew across the tile with ease. A few other students had gotten around the foliage, burying their faces in books, probably studying. And Irvine Kinneas was a few feet away from the top of the stairs with a tub of water, a bar of soap, and a soiled blanket. His coat lay beside him, as he did not want it to get in the way while he was cleaning.

"Out. Out! Damn spot!" Nida heard him say as he ascended the staircase. When he neared the entrance out, he nearly bumped into Quistis.

Muttering an apology, he walked past her, with something very urgent going on his mind.

Quistis took no notice of Nida's rush, but only walked further into the quad, spotting Irvine, as he was busy washing the stains out of his blanket.

Hearing the dulled footsteps of her knee-high boots, Irvine turned around to see her approaching. His expression started as surprised, but became annoyed just as quickly when he laid eyes on her.

"You here to take me to the cleaners as well?" He scoffed, turning back to his work.

"No," Came her answer. "I believe Squall has punished you enough."

Irvine murmured a few more Galbadian curses as he scrubbed the dirty cloth. "Why didn't anyone, like, tell me he was so wrathful?" He whined, turning his head to meat Quistis's cocky gaze.

"You didn't ask."

"Well, what the hell should I ask? 'Say, is Squall a very vengeful person 'cause I may, like, get on his bad side one day?' On top of that, the Headmaster won't even do anything."

"You went to the Headmaster?"

"No, he called me." Came his none sarcastic reply.

"About what?"

Irvine turned back to his work, but continued to speak. "About Squall. The Headmaster thinks he maybe mentally ill, or something like that. So he's sending him too a shrink."

"Is this going to be another one of your rumours?" Quistis probed.

"God no!" He responded with urgency in his voice, turning back towards her. "I've learned my lesson. Now, I can't even control my first rumour! Squall'l kill me!"

"That's true. But he is weaker now, so you do have a distinct advantage."

"Protect me Quistis." Pleaded Irvine.

"You sure that relying on me won't hurt your big boy image?" Quistis started, obviously teasing they poor guy.

"If Squall gets me, I won't have any image! Just look at my poor blanket!" He, then, shoved the cover in front of the SeeD. The huge, green stain of monster droppings highly visible.

"How logical of you," she exclaimed. "Tell you what. I'll give you a half-ass defence, at least he'll listen to me."

Irvine eased up when he heard that, but tensed up when he heard his name being shouted from across the hall.

"IRVINE!"

The group of students by the door moved away. On the others side of the door stood Squall, using his gunblade as a cane. His clothes and hair were in disarray, and his eyes looked more like pale tomatoes, then eyes. There was a distinct glow in his pupil, and his irisi looked to be crystalize, but he know that those signs were just an effect of his own Guardian Forces.

Squall pointed a gloved finger at Irvine. "I have bone to pick with you!" He yelled.

Now that Irvine thought of it, why didn't he ask? It wasn't like the SeeD was Mister Sunshine, or Sweet Sammy.

_His name's Squall for heaven's sake!_ Irvine angrily reminded himself. _That does not suggest he's a very cheerful person._

His gunblade made distinctive chinking sounds as he hobbled across the quad, not taking his eyes off his victim, nor fearing him, no matter how bigger, or stronger, that victim apparently was.

"Gotta go." Remarked Quistis, running away to the stairs in a hurry, leaving Irvine to fend for himself.

Squall stopped only a foot away from him, and looked up. His expression had his usual stoic taste, as well as the hidden air of humorous spite that never seamed to show. Even at his distance, Irvine could smell his breath, and it was hideous.

_One thing I can say, Rinoa didn't fall for you because of your minty-fresh breath._

With no words, Squall continued to stare at Irvine with his emotionless visage.

_Oh, c'mon! You're angry! I know you are! So look like it! Okay!_

Squall still stared at him. A definite sense of tension had built up, and the spectators were obviously holding their breath, not wanting to miss a second of any response. Irvine could feel it himself, but had the feeling that his attempting mauler was waiting for him to make the first move.

"You know," he squeaked, scratching the back of his head absently, "you're not allowed to carry your gunblade."

Surprisingly enough, Squall responded very slyly with a heavy Alcauldian slang. "I be told not to use gunblade for fighting or training, but nothing be said about using it as cane, aye yah."

_Nice comeback._ They both thought.

More moments of silence passed. Squall still remained unmoving, and Irvine still remained nervous.

Still not sure he wanted to, Irvine continued to squeak. "So, are you here to kick my ass?" _Get wise Irvine, he's too frickn' weak, he's goinna, like, do something nastier!_

"Oh, I won't do that," answered Squall, "I no Zell. Neither am I in good shape to take you on… physically."

_Whoah! Dude, you admittn' that you can't do somethin'?_

Out of the short time that Irvine knew Squall, he had come to the quick conclusion that the guy had pride, and demanded dignity. But here he was, using his own weapon as a walking stick and admitting he couldn't take on a challenge. The weakness itself was probably getting to him already, for he wasn't used to, or maybe just didn't like being that demeaned.

"So…whatcha goinna do?" Irvine asked hesitantly.

"I no come here for chit chat!" Barked Squall. "Your little charade of social havoc has gone off road and into ditch! You lucky I not shave you bald and chip your teeth out! In fact, what's stopping me?" He lifted his free hand up to Irvine's face, locking his fingers in a vicious claw-like way.

"Stop it right there Squall!" Came a shout from behind. Both Irvine and Squall looked towards the door to the quad, seeing that Instructor Repede had stumbled upon their little scuffle. The other spectators also looked towards the tiny Instructor.

"Well, if it isn't the Mighty Midget." Growled Squall, not in any humorous or sarcastic way as his enemy, Seifer would have done. Instead, there was just hate.

"What's this that's happening? Are you threatening another student?" Asked Repede with flaring distaste.

"Call it what you want." Squall growled. "But unlike some people, I don't let things slide."

The instructor ignored him. "And what are you doing out of the dormitory? Is that your gunblade you're using as a cane?"

"I had leg troubles."

"That is an improper use of a gunblade young man." Repede scolded, not flinching from Squall's infamous 'burst into flames' look'.

_That guy's got some guts._ Irvine thought with shame. _Yet, I'm several feet taller, and I cower. If he weren't an instructor, I'd never be able to live this down._

Still on a scolding streak, Repede continued. "You're going straight to the Headmaster for this…this act!"

"Oh, give me a break!" Squall spat back. He was tired, and the side effects from the drugs were giving him a headache. To say the least, he wasn't in the mood to argue anything. "I'm stuck in a fuckn' box all day with you people dictating my every fuckn' move! Now, I can't even use my own property for simple, goddamn assistance in WALKING!"

"That gunblade is the property of Balamb Garden."

"It became mine when I became a SeeD!"

Repede stopped his comments for a second while he mentally checked over the Garden manual. As usual, Squall was right.

_Yeah, that's right._ Bitterly, Squall hissed. _It's mine, dammit!_

Repede looked back up at him with a scowl. "That's no excuse for misuse."

"Bite me!"

At hearing this, the spectators, including Irvine, had to gasp in awe. No one, not junior classmen, not candidate, and especially a SeeD, got away with talking back at an instructor. Repede especially. That kind of behaviour wasn't known since Seifer left Garden.

"That's it!" Shouted the instructor, taking hold of Squall's free hand. "You're coming with me."

"No!"

"What?"

"I said: I don't want to come with you!"

Even though Repede had dealt with headstrong teenagers before, he wasn't very equipped to handle what was happening before him. From what he could tell, the boy was taking in very shallow breaths, his eyes didn't seem to be focusing on him, and it looked as if he was sweating.

Regardless of what his position, and pride demanded he should do, he would be damned if any one of his students had a stroke, or something, in front of him.

Opting to stay out of deep waters, Repede took a more evasive side. "All right Leonhart, you don't have to come with me, but I want you to march immediately to the Headmaster's office. I'll come by to see that you do." The instructor left, hoping that Squall would be more willing to confront Headmaster Cid. The students who were watching all turned back to their regular activities, now that the fight seamed to have died down.

Irvine stood speechless, looking at where Repede had left the quad.

Quistis had returned from wherever she had left to. "Wow, he was pissed." She commented.

"Who?" Irvine asked absentmindedly. "Squall or Repede?"

"Squall."

"Sure was, he made Repede mad enough and…" He turned his head towards the woman, not looking very pleased. "Why did you leave me to, like, fend for myself? If looks could, like, kill, my life would have been at stake, woman!"

Quistis agreed whole-heartedly. "Yeah, but frankly, I'm still mad at you."

"So, you ran off?"

"Yep."

"And left me to fend off the gorgon?" Irvine asked with rivalled curiosity and annoyance. "I swear Quistis, when he was born, the doc musta takn' out his original head of hair and replaced it, 'cuz it don't look like snakes for hair any more? Damn, that guy gives me the heeby geebies! Just starin' into those steal grey eyes'll drive you mental! I wouldn't choose that over Adel!"

"As I recall," Quistis chided, "you turned tail when she looked at you. And his eyes are sky blue."

"Well, so did you. And they're grey"

"Yes, but you were the first. They're blue!"

"Hey! Hey! The woman was huge and, like, monstrously ugly. I had to leave or I'd go insane! In fact, I think we all turned tail, leavin' Squall behind." His snarl erased itself, and was replaced by a snicker. "Gosh, I wonder what the look on his face was when he found out he had to, like, fight Adel alone? And I'm sure they're grey."

Quistis gave a cross look up to Irvine. "Well, why don't you ask him?"

"About the Adel thing? Or the eye thing?"

"Both."

"Well, maybe I will."

"That's good then."

"I'll ask him."

"All right then."

"Where is he?"

"Right there."

Irvine looked over to his right where she was pointing, and gasped. There he was, still with his gunblade, and a rather psychotic face that read 'massacre' all over it. Obviously, he had not left his spot, and had defiantly heard everything Irvine had said.

An uneasy Irvine turned to face a very displeased person, or, as he had referred to: gorgon. "Before you tear my throat out, I just want to say that I have a good explanation for why I, like, did what I did. And are your eyes grey?"

"You damn well have better! And last time I checked, they were pink!" Roared Squall, shaking his free fist at the taller man in a show of intimidation that, not so surprisingly, was more Zell-style then Squall-style.

"Okay, first, I had not faced a sorceress that was, like, twice my size before. Second, she smelled like a hospital ward, and as you may not know, I don't like hospitals in the least. Third…"

Squall didn't deem well enough to hear another one of Irvine's pathetic excuses. It was not enough that he had just left him, but everyone else had fallowed suit?

When they had boarded the massive and elusive air-fortress-slash-mechanism: the Lunatic Pandora, Seifer had gone nuts and abducted Rinoa. When him and the rest of the group caught up with the loon, he had already given her up to Adel, who was just waking up from her damaged prison. Sealed away about seventeen years ago at the end of the Sorceress War, the name of Sorceress Adel was infamous throughout the world as the biggest tyrant that lived. Now, she stood in front of them, her eyes glowing and sharp teeth bared. Irvine was right about one thing, she was ugly. Really, she looked more like a man then a woman. But, of coarse, he had left. As Squall pictured the dark orange hall, lit only by the eerie glow of Adel's tomb, he could remember hearing Irvine run for it, fallowed by three other sets of feet. When he turned around to see what had happened, he was very disappointed when he saw that he was alone. Which suited him fine, he didn't mind taking on the Sorceress alone. He envied them anyway, caring more about their own hydes then the hydes of thousands upon thousands of strangers. He wished he had that kind of discipline. But, even though Rinoa had been fused to Adel's heavily muscled chest, making her look like a starfish on a rock, he couldn't run anyway because it was literally his job to take Adel out, and because it would have been a severe blow to his pride. He had other reasons, too.

Rinoa moaned as she struggled with consciousness, while Adel turned to Squall.

"I squash you like tiny bug!" She hissed, pointing a clawed finger his way, speaking heavy Estharian.

_No kidding._ Was all he could think of, taking in her monstrous size.

"You not know vat hit you! Tiny man!" She hissed again.

"Is kind of hard too assume that," started Squall, speaking as much Estharian as he knew, "since you be very much big, and loud. Be hard to miss you rearing very ugly head of yours. I bet you not move very fast."

Adel was not pleased, to say the least. "Vi, you little _gündershkoff_! Zose vords, I make you eat!"

"I have no doubt you will."

Aiming her hand towards him, she made the ground shake beneath him. The spell was recognizable to him. Called 'quake' to all those who either knew, or used any form of magic, it was earth based in the sense it used the essence of the earth. It was a bloodless spell of magic, but brutally effective if one couldn't fly. Squall took a heavy blow, not being able to keep his footing. But the spell was a bit weak, and he recovered quickly.

Raising her fists angrily in the air, her screams made it apparent that she was not happy. "_Tunger shneer kündigg! Osh modig vinglborg!_"

_I'll assume I'm glad I didn't understand that._

Adel raised her hand to throw another spell, but was cut off by a raspy scream at the other end of the corridor.

The Sorceress stopped her spell from materializing, and both her and Squall looked to see who had come. The black robed Cloak showed herself by the light of the Bone Hall outside. She waved her clawed hands around wildly as if she were on fire, her robe opened to reveal the slimy root that grew down from under her neck.

Adel stood speechless as the fiendish thing approached, but Squall began to scream at the site. For this time, others were responding to Cloak's presence, while they hadn't before, and it scared him.

That was not what happened. Squall had managed to tick Adel off so much, she went ballistic. Shooting spells which way and what, making it easy for him to get close enough to wedge his gunblade in her ankle. Thus, making it easier to stick the tip of the silvery blade in between her ribs. Making it, the only blood shed throughout the entire ordeal.

But the entry of Cloak forbade him to remember the rest of that bloodless fight. She came in screaming, and wavering about like a mad banshee, interrupting what he should of remembered.

Then, Cloak turned to Squall, her mouth half open, and her shining red eyes glaring right at him. "Let me out! Let me out! LET ME OUT!"

From the quad, Irvine and Quistis saw his eyes go wide, and his hands dashing forwards, clutching Quistis's neck. The whole thing happened so fast that the two fall over, and the silvery gunblade clattered to the tiled floor.

"Hey!" Irvine shot back. "He's supposed to be mad at me!"

Quistis struggled with Squall's groping grip on her throat. "Tell him that." She managed to gag out.

§

Headmaster Cid looked at the two before him with a serious and stern expression. Quistis and Squall sat before his desk in his office. Instructor Repede had sent them both up, and sounded very unhappy, unlike the Headmaster, who was very worried.

"So Quistis," he began, looking at the ex-instructor. "Tell me, in your words, what happened."

She began a little reluctantly, not knowing where she should begin. "I was in the quad with Irvine. Squall was there because he wanted to deal with Irvine about that rumour. He was hobbling, using his gunblade as a cane. Irvine tried to convince him not to get angry, and he mentioned Sorceress Adel. It seamed that Squall had cooled down, but he just attacked me, with no warning what so ever."

The Headmaster nodded as he took in what she said.

"And you, Squall?" The Headmaster looked at him with a mocking, curious look.

"I attacked Quistis?" He responded with another question. "I don't remember anything like that."

Headmaster Cid looked worried again as he heard this, but continued. "Then, perhaps you should tell me what you do remember."

"Well, I remember being angry at Kinneas." The scenes from his memories were always laid out in full, vivid motion picture, very much like a movie, and he was replaying every scene as a movie editor would. "My legs were shaking badly, so I grabbed the only thing I could find to help me stand, and I marched down too the quad, hoping that Irvine was there, because I didn't feel like looking around the whole Garden for him." Squall could see himself walking down the hall; hear himself muttering angry curses to himself. Then the gate to the quad was in front of him. "I saw Kinneas standing beside Quistis. She ran off when I came near…"

"Could you skip to the part where you attacked Quistis." Ordered the Headmaster.

The student obliged with no hesitation. "When Kinneas started to talk about when we all met Adel, and how everyone left." he shot an angry look at Quistis when he said this. He could picture that whole scene where he saw Irvine lay out all the excuses he had made up for the occasion. Quistis was beside him to his left, looking back and forth at both him and Irvine with much confusion, and Cloak was on his right, looking right at him…

_Cloak!_

Unfortunately, the ability he had to make the memory of Quistis and Irvine crystal clear was making Cloak pop up just as vividly, and she was staring right at him.

"Let me out!" She yelled, making harsh slurping sounds as she finished screeching.

Headmaster Cid was the first to notice something was wrong, as he saw Squall's grey eyes go wide, and his breathing became rapid. Quistis fallowed soon in this noting as he dove right for the elder man. She managed to grab him under the arms as his clawed fingers tore madly about to get at the Headmaster's throat. Keeping his eyes on Squall, Cid reached for the mic that sat on his desk, and managed to beep the infirmary.

"Dr. Kadowaki," he spoke in the mic, his voice shaky with panic. "I have a situation in my office. Please send two big, and strong students."

§

The pompous structure of the Domane house stood up amidst a backdrop of pines, birches, and spruces. The night overhung the gothic structure, starless and moonless. The only light came from the house itself, and the feeble lights of Timber.

The lot in front of the house was alive with a marble fountain, carved with a stone angel. Her head thrust upwards, and wings spread out in preparation for flight. Water came out of the vase that she carried. Various vehicles were parked around it. On the right side, covered in proper asphalt and protected by a stone wall, was where the Galbadian residence parked their limousines, while the Timber guest were positioned on the left, where the asphalt gave way to gravel, and had only small trees to protect the cars from the weather.

As they arrived, they entered. A group of Galbadian bouncers were placed in front of the front door. Their main purpose was to make sure the people from Timber didn't enter before the Galbadians did.

From the back of the house, a smaller building sat by a simple wooden door, lighted only by a single bare bulb. Inside were three security guards; all of them were watching a monitor each. It was a hard duty, as there were twelve monitors, but they were told only to watch the front door, the tunnel, and the fourth floor.

A few soldiers had come by earlier that day to drop something off. They wouldn't say what, but the security guards knew, that the party was to celebrate this new delivery, and eventually, reveal it. Besides this information, they didn't know what the heck it was. The reason for having the party in Timber, and not in Galbadia, was that the delivery was to be shipped to Esthar City the very next morning via Horizon Bridge.

The three of them were so intent on there objective that they neglected to watch what really should have counted: Their own backs.

Moving with brigand agility, Rinoa took two of them down. The third managed to get up and see what was happening, but he proved no match for Angelo. All it took was one order from her mistress, and the man's arm was in a tooth filled vice.

Watts and Mordechai came in the small room with twine in hand. With two of the guards' unconscious, and the third with a wounded arm, it was easy to tie them up.

After they were tied up, the three teenagers took to the control panel while Angelo stayed to watch their hostages.

With the planned descriptions they had studied, the Viral team found no trouble in taking out the alarms and sensors. It was now time to contact the rest.

Mordechai and Watts took up a station at the monitors, each one taking six to watch at random. While Watts was watching what was going on inside, Mordechai watched the outside, and the basement. Whilst they were monitoring the grounds, Rinoa took out her walkie-talkie and, once the right station was found, contacted the Lookout team.

"We've secured the security shack, over." She started, turning her signal to receive.

Watching the front door from in a tree sat two other Forest Owls: Zone, and another guy named Brix. When Rinoa's message came over the frequency, Zone took the walkie-talkie and confirmed that he was in place, as well as a piece of the team that was hiding by the west side, the other at the east side, one at the back, and the fourth, a little ways down the road.

When all the sub teams of the Lookout confirmed their status, Rinoa turned back to her own teammates to confirm their own status.

She began to the two men. "How's everything goin? Find anything?"

"I think I've found what we may be here for." Suggested Mordechai, pointing to a large crate on one of the monitors. The room it was in was a cement blockade with a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The crate was large, roughly four by four feet in length, and bearing the Galbadian coat of arms.

Rinoa turned to look at Mordechai. "Are you sure?"

"Sure am. It's the only crate here."

She checked to see if he was right, and, he was, no other crate could be seen. The basement was pretty much empty, excluding several moskeetoes that buzzed by.

"Terrific." Rinoa grinned happily, turning her walkie-talkie back on. "Zone. I think we may have found our target."

Zone's voice came over the frequency. "All right. We'll get the Decoy team in here."

When Rinoa had no more to say, he turned to a different channel and contacted their patsies.

Andy was asleep at the wheal of the Forest Owls car. The vehicle was done up as best they could to make it look more upper class. Zone had flexed his awesome make up skills to make all four of them look a little older. From what he had heard from Zell, he was very sure that their disguises would work, or at least, hope they would fool the bouncers. Rind was the first to get to the walkie-talkie. Zone gave them the order to move out.

The car rolled down the gravel road until it came to the front end of the house. No gates guarded the outside, and no walls bordered the perimeter. The four Forest Owls had to wonder how such a large house felt with such inadequate security in a country where so much hostility was present.

They gave the thought no more attention, as they pulled into the gravel lot reserved for Timber guests.

Rind and Spikes came out first, each one dressed in a suite that had been stolen, as they could not afford, nor did any of them have any sewing skills, to create anything then the rags they already had. Rind had not cut his hair, but he had brushed it, to Rinoa's great relief. Spikes had abandoned his bandana, and combed his hair flat, much to his dislike. Andy and Red Hawk came out only seconds later. Red Hawk was the only one that was wearing a turtleneck and dark corduroys. The red tattoo that covered his forehead had been conveniently covered to make him look less conspicuous.

Andy made his way to the trunk of the car and opened it. Inside was their getaway driver, Lucky.

He was scrunched up in the most uncomfortable position. When he had pleaded to be hidden under the dashboard, Zone had refused and had gotten another stomach spasm. The reason he had given was that someone was more likely to see him if he was hidden in front, so they stuffed him in the trunk. Thankfully, the trunk door to the old wreck didn't close all the way, and Lucky still had something to breath.

"You all right?" Asked Andy.

Croaked Lucky, "Can I come out now?"

Andy looked up to the other four who were with him. "He's okay." He spoke quietly enough so that no one would bother to over hear him. Then he closed the trunk door again, over Lucky's protests.

As nervous as they already were, they received no worse shock when the bouncer at the front of the door told them they couldn't enter. For a while, the four boys thought that they had already been caught. Their fear was evaded when Rind had asked why, and was told that Timber guests weren't allowed in until after the foreign Galbadians were all inside. So they had no choice but to wait outside.

"Man, this sucks." Whined Red Hawk, who was leaning against a birch trunk.

"Hey! Just be lucky we weren't caught." Rind reminded him.

No one else felt they had to say anything, so they just sat quiet with the other Timber guests who had to wait.

It had become cold out, and the four Forest Owls couldn't help but notice that very few of the others didn't have jackets.

Andy started to shake Rind's arm. "Hey, bro. Look who's here."

Rind looked over where Andy was pointing. It was a midget woman, dark haired, wearing a dark blue dress and a black pearl necklace.

"A Forest Bear." Commented Red Hawk. "Guess we weren't the only ones to pick up that information."

Spikes came up to hear their conversation, but could not deliver any input. A small monster, a thrustaevis, had cut up his throat when he was younger. Now, he couldn't talk at all.

Having position on the walkie-talkie, Andy found it best to contact Zone about their unfortunate discovery. As expected, Zone was not happy to hear about it, but advised then to stay as far away from the midget as possible.

Out of all the resistance factons in Timber, the Forest Owls, and the Forest Bears did not see eye to eye at all. It seamed that the Bears did what they did more for glory then for their country's independence, a moral that the Owls despised. They had been rivals ever since the two factions had been made four years ago. Whenever the two groups did cross paths, it was often with different objectives in mind.

The midget came unknowingly closer towards them. The four Owls were concerned about running, or even moving away in such a crowd. Thankfully, they were sparred the decission when the Galbadain bouncer announced they could all go in.

All the Timber guests pilled into the great house. Andy, Rind, Red Hawk and Spikes stopped to stare in awe at the houses foyer.

A great crystal chandelier hung from a shining brass-looking ceiling. The walls were of an earthy tone with large tapestries of self-portraits and landscapes. The floor itself, was checkered bronze and black, and carried a moderate reflective property. Spikes found it particularly entertaining to watch the reflection of his feet move around as he did. Three staircases, one leading from the far left, another from the far right, and another in the middle, had dark red, velvet carpeting draped on them. At the floor where the cases started, eachbanister ended in a statue of what looked like angels and nymphs. But one of them, a statue on the right staircase, on the right banister, looked completely out of place. The figure had the head of a lion, or so it looked like at first glance, fastened in a pose of roaring. Looking closer, it was clear that the head had ears that spread off into three branches each, and had four eyes, a neck that was more reptilian, and four, well carved tongues. Behind it were well carved bat wings with four fingers each. Its body was that of a snake, and had no legs. It's arms were very humanoid looking, but the hands only held, what could be recognized, as two fingers. There were two other appendages on the hands, but they looked more like something that would be seen in a dentist's office, and one was sticking out of the top of the hand, while the other was sticking out of the opposite side that the thumb would normally be.

Red Hawk was the only one to notice it. For when he told the others to see this weird stone figure, another nymph replaced it as soon as they all looked back at it. Red Hawk swore it was the figure of some monster, but got no appreciation. The rest thought the odd lighting of the foyer was making his eyes funny. Constantly, he pleaded for truth as the four crowded with the rest down the elaborate main hall to the ballroom.

The chandelier in the foyer was big, but not as big, or decorative, as the one in the ballroom. It carried white, red, green, and blue collared crystals. The illumination of which, was made more dazzling with the small electrical lights behind the crystal vales. A separated pendent of gold hung down from the very tip, shaped like an oak leaf. The room was round, and had about a thirty-foot radius. The very centre was marked by another statue. This one was of a large bird, most likely an eagle. It was carved out of dark marble, and its eyes were made of rubies. The whole thing was perched on a granite rock. Four great pillars around the statue held the ceiling up.

The pillared walls were lined with tables, each one holding a centre piece of flowers: cloud lips, dragon tails, and muralwind flowers, all held in very exotic looking vases often accompanied by blue and white candles, sitting on top of laced white table cloths. H'ours douveres were already set out on each table, and the four boys were salivating at the site of croissants with raspberry icing, plum cake with cream cheese, pitchers of something they all hopped was sweet, chocolate covered roaches, slices of lemon coconut squares, endless plates of chocolate chip and blueberry muffins, and several other items that they didn't even know existed in the Wide World of Pastries.

Just above them was a balcony, closed by two white doors with golden organic designs fringing out from the edges. A stairway led down from the left of the balcony, covered in a plain black rug.

Beneath, was a marble floor. White, in the best sense, but decked in several grey veins and dark yellow smears.

As the four looked around with curiosity, Rind spotted the midget going up and down the tables. It looked like she was admiring the food, but it was hard to tell, as she had her back to them. Someone else was walking along with her. It was a taller woman, shorthaired, wearing a hideous, frilly, deep forest green dress. Rind also recognized this woman as a Forest Bear.

From behind him, Andy blurted out, "I am going home from this party so fat…"

"Better take a rain check on the snacks for a while."

"Why?" He asked, turning around, frowning at the long haired guy.

Rind's next sentence was announced in a whisper. "Because there are two Forest Bears by the tables."

§

Inside the security shack, Watts noticed that their Decoy team had made it in.

"Rinoa sir." He called, looking back to where Rinoa was keeping watch at the door. "They're in."

She looked at him for a second, as if she didn't believe them. She left her post and walked up to the monitor he was pointing at, noticing Rind, Andy, Red Hawk and Spikes right away.

"Did you see those Forest Bears they were talking about?" She asked Watts.

"No sir."

"Ditto." Remarked Mordechai from his seat by the other six monitors.

The two men went quiet; as Rinoa held up the walkie-talkie, ready to call in the Scavenger team.

An electrical static came over the frequencies. "_Idri! nira sthi vákor? Vroskidur nàmir nirsvati!_" Hey! You there? Come in you guys!

§

"_Idri! nira sthi vákor? Vroskidur nàmir nirsvati!_"

The call woke Zell up from his napping. He waited for Selphie to grab it, but realized, that as the new squad leader, it was his duty to answer the call. So had no choice but to answer.

"_Drith, Air sakir hurgung nira. Isvasrind._" Yo, I can hear you. Over.

"Guys, the Decoy team has just entered the building." Informed Rinoa, still speaking Alcauldian.

Zell answered back, sounding very happy to hear her voice. "Okay, but when you finish a transmission on a walkie-talkie, you should always end with over. Over."

"Fine! Just get goin'! Over!"

"See, that wasn't so hard. Over."

"What did I say about getting going? Over."

"You said nothing, just that we should be going. Over."

"HEY BRINE!" Rinoa yelled in Mainstream, obviously trying to get Brine's attention. "GET GOIN'! OVER!"

From the front seat, Brine unfolded his arms from the cradle he had made for his head and gripped the steering wheel. The car purred affectionately as he turned the key for the ignition.

"That's a fine sounding car." Selphie commented. Zell couldn't contrast, they had given a quick look over their crap-mobile. And, what could he say, at least _someone_ was mechanically inclined.

"I should hope." Spoke Brine in Galbadian. "It's important that this car doesn't make much noise. We wouldn't want to be discovered before we got there?" The car pulled out from its parked position in front of the local drycleaner, motoring down the road at a reasonable pace.

"What happens if we do get caught?" Asked Zell, leaning over from the back seat.

"Lynched, it we're lucky."

"And if we aren't…"

"The D-District Prison."

The SeeD sat back in his seat. He had been to the D-District Prison, and it certainly wasn't thrilling.

As Selphie had been so kind to point out, they had been in the Galbadian prison before. It had happened shortly after he and his squad, then led by Squall, had left Timber on account of security. After finding a safe haven in Galbadia Garden, they were sent on a mission to kill Sorceress Edea. The mission was a flop, and they were arrested. They had been lucky to get out the first time. Second time around, they would not have the blessing of four SeeDs, seven GF's, and really stupid guards.

The lights of the gravel streets had thinned out to none. Now, the blue car was on wild road, lined by giant pines and birches. Brine had turned the headlights on low as to see his way around the curving, dirt path. The Forest Owl was sweating from tension. The road was narrow, and meandered more then an old stream; one false move would have sent the car and passengers into the ditch. Several close calls came when Zell began to gab, Brine had lost his concentration and nearly ran into the trunk of an evergreen. The unexpected detour had gotten them off the road. The vehicle wasn't all terrain, but it managed to get itself back on the road, minus one bumper and a broken headlight.

The loss of one headlight didn't matter, for Brine turned them off just as the road was starting to straighten out.

"S'up Brine," Zell asked, really loud.

Both Brine and Selphie shushed him. Zell gave his question again as soon as he registered that he had to be quiet.

"We're nearing the Domane House."

"But aren't the sensors supposed to be down?"

"They can still hear us." Commented Selphie. "And with yon voice like that, I wouldn't be surprised if'n they heard us already."

"Then, I say, bring it on!"

"Zell, this isn't funny! Shut up!"

"Who says I'm being funny? I'm damn serious! I'm pumped and ready to do some stealing!"

"Well, we're not going to do any thieving with you announcing our arrival."

Zell and Selphie continued to squabble for a few more seconds while Brine got the car into position in front of a small moat that surrounded the underground entrance. He made sure to hide the car,as well as stop it, behind a thick cover of cariganas and pine saplings, so that they wouldn't be seen by anyone who ventured outside.

Turning around in his seat, Brine cautioned the two mercenaries, "Now, remember, if you're in trouble, that means you are lost. If you are in deep, that means you are in jeopardy of being caught. If you are stuck that means the original plan has been botched, and you need a new one."

Both of them were spellbound. They looked at Brine with the uncanny expressions of a nine year old trying to read a level eight book."

"Why can't we just say it in plain Galbadian?" Zell asked.

"Idunno?"

Selphie still wanted to ask what they had to say if they were caught, but was interrupted by Zell, yet again.

"Sounds straight forward. Wouldn't you agree, Selphie?"

She took a moment to decide whether to respond or not. "I think so?"

"Good," continued Brine. "Now, if you are in the house for some reason, contact Andy. He's leading the Decoy team."

"Is he Rind's brother, cuz he looks the same?" Blurted Zell.

"They're twins. Why'd you ask?"

"Just curious, you know. I never really knew any twins before. Well, there was this one time I came close…"

"No time Zell!" Interrupted Selphie as she grabbed her nunchaku. "We've got a job to do, aye."

Brine watched them as they got out of the car. "Good luck you guys." He spoke before they closed the door.

A single light fixture that was cemented to the brick wall, as well as a few lights that could be seen under the moat, lighted the outside. At close inspection, both Zell and Selphie could see that the moat was artificial, lined by teal painted cement. On the other side was a huge platform fitted with granite ceramic tiles. The door to the basement looked more natural then the moat, for all they knew, the entire house could have been built on top of a cave. There was no light on the inside, as could plainly be seen.

Selphie tested the water by dipping a finger in. As suspected, it was cold.

She turned to her squad leader, who was busy surveying a spruce sapling. "Looks like we have to swim across the water." She was now speaking Alcauldian.

"Alright! Time for a swim!" Zell cheered, as well as dove face first into the moat, making much noise in the process.

The temperature of the water was a shock at first, but he persisted, driven forth by his own strength and hyped up energy. Being a child raised in the harbour town of Balamb, he had pretty much been swimming his whole life, and had become very skillful in the water. Even though he was still wearing his shoes, and his clothes, he did not falter, but they did feel very heavy when he got up onto dry ground again, soaking wet.

"Oh, forget what I said," came Selphie's excited voice from the other side of the moat, "we can use this big ol' tree."

With disbelief and embarrassment on mind, Zell turned around anyway to see what she was talking about. Selphie had found a thick old oak with branches that stretched way over the water. As he watched some more, the girl made her footing on several knots in the twisted tree trunk, climbing up until she reached the thickest bough. With the added speed of her GF Pandemona, and her own lightweight, she leaped off the bough and landed on the platform.

"Hey, it helps to take a little look around." The girl giggled, giving one of her winning smiles and bouncing steps.

Zell coughed up more water, "You're telling me." He turned around to face her, soaking wet and not to pleased.

"Well, did you think that swimming was the only way?"

"Yeah."

Selphie gave him a playful shove. "C'mon, you're the squad leader, you have to act like Squall now! And he wouldn't have jumped face first into a moat unless there was no other way."

"Well…FINE!"

His last word 'fine' seamed to echo throughout the cave behind him. A soft rhythm of thuds flowed from the darkness, and then became louder, until the source of the sound emerged. Selphie gagged on shocked surprise while Zell turned around to face the intruder.

In front of the SeeDs stood a nine foot tall yellow android: a Galbadian unit known as GIM47N. Old by their technology's standard, but not by their punch.

"Zell," Selphie squeaked, "that doesn't look like a moskeeto."

"No sweat man." Zell started confidently, "we've met these babies before and gotten off clear."

Just as he finished, the android launched a massive metal fist directed at the blonde's head. He missed just narrowly. With an extreme fortune of luck, the GIM47N had taken an unfortunate step to get closer for the punch, and ended up tripping over Zell's crouched form, falling face first into the moat. The water crackled and spat at the live machinery as the robot sank. The GIM47N hit the concrete bottom, thrashing for a few seconds until it short-circuited for good. It then, lay motionless at the bottom; with the underwater lights illuminating its last pose.

Both Zell and Selphie looked down at the disposed android.

"See," piped Zell rather proudly, "no sweat."

§

"What do you mean: no sweat." Mordechai heard Selphie whine on one of the monitors. "You know, Quezacotl could have taken that thing out easily."

"Psht, I only use Guardian Forces for the really tough battles. I did not count that as a tough battle. Besides, if that thing was smarter, it wouldn't have picked a fight with me in the first place."

"They're in." Announced Mordechai, "but not without a scuffle."

Rinoa shot a worried look at him. "What! Are they hurt in any way?"

"No, they're fine," he explained as the sorceress pushed up in front of him to see the monitors. She couldn't see them, as they had already gone into the cave, but she did see something unusual.

"Why's the water bubbling like that?" She asked.

"A big huge robot appeared that sure as hell wasn't a moskeeto."

"Blue or yellow?"

"Yellow."

"Was it big, burly looking, and had a metal ring over it's head?"

"That's it!" He answered with agreement.

"But the prints said nothing about those things." She started to shake with heavy concern. Not so much that the GIM47N was around, she knew Selphie and Zell could take care of that, but it changed so much, along with the coupled interference of the Forest Bears.

"I've never seen one of those things sir." Watts asked a little less concerned. "What are they?"

"Some kind of security android," started Rinoa, looking over at Watts. "I saw them in the D-District, but I can't remember what they were called."

"I think those are the robots my mom always talked about." Informed Mordechai. "She said there were a lot of them around when Galbadia first invaded. Everyone called them the Iron Fists. And just when were you in the D-District?"

"I believe I have told you that story a hundred and seventy-two times!" Rinoa complained to his face.

"And I still don't get it! How come you were called into the assassination?"

"I told you! I had to pass as a SeeD so they wouldn't throw me out in the middle of the Monterosa!"

"So how come they didn't?"

Rinoa sighed in annoyed surrender. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on our SeeDs?"

Realizing his negligence, Mordechai quickly turned around to face one of his assigned monitors. On it, it appeared that Zell and Selphie had stumbled upon a moskeeto, and were busily beating it to metal mulch.

Watts was also watching his monitors. On them, he could keep an eye on their Decoy team. It seamed as if the four guys were getting a hang of their role, even though, it seamed that Andy was making very sure that none of them ate any of the h'ours douveres set out. He also noticed some strange newcomers. They wore robes of white with colourful vestibals and funny hats. Judging from their funny clothing, Watts thought them no more then entertainment, so he felt no need to tell anyone of this new finding.

§

Selphie brought down a last smash with her nunchaku. The moskeeto was now, officially, offline.

"That showed it." Boasted Zell.

"It sure did." Selphie agreed.

"Now to go and find more of these metal buggers n' bust 'em!"

"Then we find the 'delivery'. Aye?"

"What delivery?"

"You know, the 'delivery' we came here to steel."

"Huh? Yeah, sure, just as soon as we clear the basement of its pest problem." Zell geared, throwing a few practice punches in the air.

"But," Selphie started to whine, "shouldn't we find the 'delivery' first?"

"Hey, who's the leader here? We find when we are good and ready."

"So…are we ready?"

"…Yes we are. Any idea where to look first?"

"No, do you?"

"Hey! As leader, I'm ordering you to give me an idea!"

"Okay. So, may I ask permission to ask if you have any idea?"

"You may."

"Do you have any idea?"

"Not a clue."

The walkie-talkie that Zell carried, crackled to life with the resentment whining of Rinoa.

"What the hell are you two doing? You have a job to do! Remember?"

Zell picked up the walkie-talkie. He held it up close to his mouth and began to speak. "Well, you see, we don't really have much of an idea where to look. And the use of 'over' would still be nice. Over."

"Fine, have it your way! Now listen closely. You see where most of that moskeeto wreck is?"

They had both beaten the metal bug into shrapnel. But, as Zell saw, most of the shrapnel was located in the same place, by a corridor that was lit by a single naked bulb.

Rinoa continued on the walkie-talkie. "Take the hall that the remains are closest too. I'll walk you through the rest of the way."

On the other side of the transmission, Mordechai smirked at Rinoa.

"Worth every gill?" He coaxed with a chuckle.

Rinoa put her hand over the walkie-talkie like she would a phone receiver, and glowered angrily at the blonde guy. "Oh, shut up." Angelo barked a response.

Back in the basement, Zell began to move down the hall, with Selphie fallowing close behind. The hall was lined with large cement blocks painted puke green, or looked that way in the dim light. The floor was of a cold concrete, and pertained huge cracks and potholes that had acquired water and grime, giving the whole place a strong must smell. Silently, the two SeeDs moved forward, wary of the slightest buzzing sound while Rinoa's voice guided them through.

"Okay," She remarked as they came to a junction. "Take the door to your left."

"Are you sure?" Zell asked.

"Of coarse I am. I still have that map that Watts and Mordechai got."

As he turned to look back at his comrade, he shrugged, then motioned silently which way they were to go.

The hall they had gone down was dark at first, but grew brighter as they continued down its interior. Another light bulb hung by a string at the end, and behind it was a wooden door.

"Behind that door," continued Rinoa, "should be the crate that holds the 'delivery'."

"You sure about that." Sceptically asked Selphie, leaning past Zell's arm so she could speak into the walkie-talkie herself.

"Sure am. From what I see here in the monitor, the room matches the one on the map."

"Enough talk," barked Zell, "let's bust this baby wide open!" No more words were wasted as he bashed into the wooden barrier with his elbow. The door gave away by a few splinters, then cracks, until the door was broken enough to get through.

Leading the way in, Zell stepped over the broken splinters while Selphie widened the hole some more with her weapon.

There the crate was: big, tan, and beautiful. The Galbadian insignia was painted in teal paint on the front. "Damn, what the hell were they shippn'?" Shouted Zell with surprise, "a nuclear weapon?"

"Just open it up." The voice from the walkie-talkie begged.

"Whoo-hoo! Open sesame!" Selphie chanted, skipping forward towards the crate, bringing up her nunchaku, then bringing it down. The lid of the crate splintered a bit, and a bit, and a bit, and a bit, and a bit more each time she took another hack at it.

Zell looked at the crazily happy features of his partner and panicked. "Yo, save some of that for me!" Then he ran over to chip the crate with his fists.

§

Mordechai watched with growing disgust. "Why can't they just try to pry the crate open? Like normal people."

"Don't spoil their fun," lectured Rinoa. Angelo barked another response to her mistress's anger. "Look how happy they are." She said this as she pointed towards the monitor. The two SeeDs had become quite content in their present activity, and the crate was already showing holes near the top, with foam sticking out of each and every one of them.

From in front of the house, Zone was busily trying to contact the Viral team about the new arrivals. Unlike Watts, he had good reason to believe that the people in the white robes were not entertainment, as he saw them pull up in taxies and private cars. Unfortunately, Rinoa had her communication set on the channel for the Scavenger team. And so, was unable to reach her to tell her that.

§

The crate was now splintered enough to be pronounced open. Zell lifted up the weakened lid to expose the covering of more foam bits. Selphie cheered with happiness, then dove into the foam pool with Zell, each one of them frantically groping inside the crate until they found something.

They continued for about another fifteen minutes before they realized that nothing was there. No notice, not a scrap, not even a receipt, just foam.

"Bummer," exclaimed Selphie, letting some of the foam she had slip from her fingers. "Rinoa must have gotten the wrong crate."

§

All four of the Decoy team had waited uneventfully before the champagne was being handed out. Red Hawk was tempted into getting some; until Andy reminded him they were still under legal drinking age. This got some protests in how they were to act older, but, in the end, Andy won over.

When the champagne had been passed out to all the 'adults', they had been all told to direct their attention to the balcony.

A podium had been set out in front of the railing. A wrinkled old man with no hair walked up in front of the podium.

"He looks like the older version of Brine." Remarked Red Hawk, getting a few silent snickers out of the other three.

The old man began to speak in Classical Galbadian. "May I have your attention please?"

"...But he sounds like Zone." Snickered Andy, making Red Hawk, and Spikes chuckle. Rind didn't laugh, as he didn't get their joke.

Continuing into the mike, the old man spoke. "Here to present tonight's special discovery, the Estharian Ambassador and Minister of Defence: Willis Gatchmen."

The audience applauded as the old man left, and a woman with a white robe and dark blue vestible stepped forward. The Decoy team stood still where they were, looking up towards the woman with awe. She wasn't in her prime, and appeared to be in her forties. They couldn't see her hair, as she was wearing a funny looking hood with a tall hat on top of it.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," she began with a foreign accent that none of the Forest Owls recognized. "I am Minister of Defence, Willis Gatchmen."

Andy looked towards his twin brother with amused astonishment. "Willis? How the hell did she get that name?"


	6. Breaking the Mould

6

Breaking the Mould

At the very moment that the Forest Owls were surrounding the Domane House in Timber, on the other side of the continent, on the Monterosa plains in Galbadia, something profound was about to happen at the New Galbadian Observatory.

One of the astronomers walked down the hall with the days work in his hand. Like usual, it had been a slow day, but, as he was sure, astronomy was a slow business. While heading down the hallway, he passed their janitor. He was a young man, somewhere around twenty-ish, with blonde hair, and a curious scar running down his face.

The astronomer looked over to the janitor, who was busy mopping the floor. "See you tomorrow Seifer." The guy spoke with a New Galbadian accent.

"See you Dr. Barkley." Seifer waved his hand goodbye as the astronomer left the building.

As soon as he was sure he was gone, Seifer disgustedly threw his mop aside. "Thank Hyne the friggn' day is over!" He quaffed in Alcauldian.

Beside him was the bin he 'supposedly' used to carry the astronomer's dirty smocks. Just how they would get them so dirty while working with computers and a telescope astounded him. But, from what he saw, they got dirty fast anyway.

Leaning over the bin, Seifer began, "Hey, Fujin, you in there?"

The silver haired woman poked her head out of the bin. From the tossed up mess of her hair, it was easy to guess that she had been sleeping.

"ABSURD!" She squawked with very little emotion.

"Is not!" Seifer defended. "Now c'mon, we gotta get Raijin."

Fujin climbed out of the bin. "SURE?" She questioned.

"Damn right I am! Barkley's always the last one to leave. Now let's get moving." He spoke heavy Alcauldian; same with Fujin, but it wasn't nearly as noticeable when she spoke in high-strung, single words.

Moving down the corridors, the two came to the area with the janitor's closet. Seifer opened the door, and out tumbled the big, dark skinned galoot named Raijin.

"Didja miss us, yah?" Was the sarcastic remark from Seifer.

Raijin coughed, "That place could use an air freshener, ya know." who spoke with a Balambese accent, even though he was speaking Alcauldian like the rest.

"It should, but it doesn't. Now where's my coat." Seifer groped around the cluttered closet until he came upon his favourite grey overcoat. When he did find it; he hurriedly put it on with a smile and a proud node.

"RATTY." Fujin snapped.

"Hey, clothes make the man." He protested. "And in my case, they make the man look conspicuous. Now let's get to that telescope!"

The three ran down the quiet, echoing halls, entering the giant circular room that held the telescope.

Seifer drooled at the sight of the huge instrument. "Oh baby, this is it. The finest telescope Galbadia has to offer. With a lens smoother then an aluminium can, and an accuracy better then Dick Snider's weather reports, this makes it the most advanced earth bound telescope on the planet, not including Esthar."

"So," stammered Raijin, "what are we goinna do with it, ya know?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to look through it, and find what those stupid astronomers couldn't!"

"A planet?"

"Anything that gets the attention of the media." Seifer boasted. "I promised those losers at Garden that I would do something big! And ain't nothing bigger then discovering a planet!"

"But you said you weren't goinna find a planet, ya know."

The blonde gave Raijin a sour look. "No, Raijin. I just said I would take anything I find."

"Oh."

Fujin butted in. "COOL."

Seifer spoke up to his posse. "Now, Fujin, get at that big computer and type in the coordinates I give you. Raijin, keep a lookout just in case. I've got a lot of stargazing to do before the docs come back for their morning observing."

The two did as they were told. Raijin stood by the door while Fujin took her place by the computer; Seifer ascended the stairs to the foot of the telescope. He looked into the eyepiece, but he couldn't see anything of interest.

"No wonder those guys couldn't find anything!" Seifer hissed, "They need to get radical. Fujin, get me a glimpse of the east sky."

Fujin began to type in coordinates. Though, because astronomy was never her best subject, she had trouble figuring out how to aim towards the east sky. As a result, the telescope was rotated every which way and that.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Shouted Seifer, as soon as the telescope stopped its rotating. "I said the east sky, not Winter Island!"

"SORRY."

That same routine continued for a few more minutes, until Seifer found something.

"Okay, Fujin, stop."

To ensure that she did stop, she stepped away from the computer entirely. Seifer focused the view.

"Oh wow. I had no idea the universe was so boring. Fujin! Give this thing a flick a little further south!"

Of coarse, she had no idea how to turn that huge thing south, but she entered coordinates anyway. The telescope stopped somewhere a little further west of the previous coordinates. Then, Seifer saw something.

"Sweet! Hey! Take a picture of this thing!"

She did as she was told, and in a couple of minutes, the image of what Seifer saw came on view in the monitor. A still life picture that wouldn't move, so they could study it closer.

Seifer skipped down the stairs, singing a Balambese song to verbalize his excitement as he went. When on the ground, he ran over to the computer to get a better look at what he found.

Both him and Fujin looked at the image, the contrast was dark, and the finer detail of the image was hidden, but both Seifer and Fujin were able to see what was on the screen.

Rising out of the darkness was a large object. The shape of which, was too erratic to be a planet, and too symmetrical to be an asteroid, and much too dark to be a star. The only logical explanation they could come up with was that it was an extraterrestrial craft. The craft looked as if it was light in colour, just what kind of colour it was, was not clear. Several large appendages seamed to stick out of its side.

"Out of two hours a night, and four in the morning," began Seifer with sneer, "those scientist couldn't find this?"

Fujin looked at her associate. "JUST CAME?"

"Either way, I found it first."

"Hey, Seifer." Came Raijin's voice from behind them, but neither Fujin or Seifer turned around to see him, as if they were afraid the picture before them would disappear. "What do I say if I see someone walking down the hall, ya know?"

"Just say that someone's in the hall."

"Okay. So what do I say if that someone is an astronomer, ya know?"

"Since when was 'astronomer' on your vocabulary?"

"Okay. So what do I say if an astronomer is in this room, ya know?"

"Say 'an astronomer is here."

"Okay, an astronomer is here, ya know."

"That's good, now go back to your post and remember to say those things."

"An astronomer is here."

Seifer sighed with irritation, and then turned around to face the guy with more authority. "Look Raijin, I give you a simple task and you don't even have the mental capacity too…" He stopped his lecture when he saw astronomer Dr. Welsh.

"Told ya so, ya know." Geared Raijin.

"Well," the doctor started, looking sternly at the young man; and Fujin, who was just starting to turn around, too. "Now what have we been up to Mr. Almasy?"

"Um," Seifer searched his grand archive of excuses to dodge any bullets. "Cleaning the monitor." _Oh yes. I'm so dead._

"Really, then where are your cleaning supplies?"

"Um…their invisible?"

§

For their discretion, the posse was, literally, tossed out of the observatory that very minute. Except for Raijin, who was too heavy for Dr. Welsh to toss. That problem was soon remedied as the astronomer came at him with a crowbar. In order not to get hit, Raijin threw himself out of the building.

Dr. Welsh looked at them one last time with an angry scowl. "And don't you come showing your faces around here again!" He slammed the door shut behind them, leaving Seifer and his posse alone in the night.

"Damn, he's goinna take credit for my thingamajig!" Whined Seifer.

"BUMMER!" Fujin remarked with very little empathy.

Raijin looked at his two other companions with a solemn expression. "Are we goin' home now, ya know?"

"Yes Raijin," growled Almasy, "we're going…" he shuddered with a bitter frown, "…home."

As for Dr. Welsh, he returned to the telescope to evaluate any damage that Seifer and his unwanted guests might have caused. The first thing he noticed upon inspection of the computer was the image that they were looking at. About to hit the delete button, he started to think it through. Eventually, his reason got the best and decided to alert someone of the enigma.

§

Since the posse had very little money on them, they were forced to live in a run down boarding house in the middle of New Coroner, which was an hour drive from the observatory, and they only had one scooter.

When they did arrive at their 'home', they were greeted, as usual, by a frightful mess of paper containers, broken glass, candy wrappers, torn foam, a ratty old couch and beaten TV, and several other dilapidated pieces of furniture, and, of coarse, a boarded up window. That was what Seifer earned his new independence for, that was what he left Garden for. It burned his temper every time he thought of it.

Both Raijin and Fujin took a seat on the threadbare wreck they called a couch. Seifer bitterly joined them, taking his usual seat in the middle of the two. Raijin turned the TV on manually. There was no need to change channels, as they only got three, and two of them were foreign language channels.

For a while, the three watched the TV with its horrible reception.

Raijin sneezed, and the entire facing wall fell away.

He started rather emptily while still staring at the TV. "Seifer, the wall fell down, ya know."

"It sure did." Came Seifer's reply.

§

The door to the security shack shook with violent exuberance. Rinoa, Angelo, Watts, and Mordechai, all startled, turned towards the intrusion.

"They're early sir." Remarked Watts in a whisper.

"Hello." Started one of the security guards. She spoke Galbadain. "Is everything all right in there?"

Angelo started barking. Rinoa tried to get the dog to calm down, but it was already too late, whoever was out there had heard them already.

Mordechai looked frantically around the room. There were monitors, piled boxes, the tied up security guards...Angelo. "There's no way out."

On the other side of the door, the two other security guards started to knock the door down, concerned for their fellow employees.

Watts began to hyperventilate. "What are we going to do? What are we going to do?" In his panic, he took hold of Rinoa's arm and shook her hard. "You're a sorceress! Teleport us!"

Rinoa shoved him aside. "No! I can only teleport myself!"

"Then let's shut up and start digging around!" Mordechai suggested frantically.

The two outside security guards began to pound on the door even harder. Angelo stopped her barking only to help her mistress escape.

The fine wood on the door gave way to knicks and splinters, and the splinters gave way to a gash. One of the security guards kicked the weakened door open. Inside, they say the monitors on, the three other security guards tied up by the wall to their right, and the pile of cardboard boxes moved to reveal the door that lead into the mansion.

One of the rescuers untied a fellow security guard.

"What the hell happened in here?" He asked, speaking with a Wayside Galbadian Accent, very British in sounding.

"Three kids and their dog jumped us." The untied security guard gasped, thankful the untidy job of his gagging was undone.

"These boxes weren't all over the place when we left." Reasoned the other standing guard. "They must have gone through that door. We have to get after them. They could be resistance members."

"No, wait!" The rescued person started. "I overheard one of the punks call their female companion a sorceress!"

Both the guards who had busted through the door gave their companion misbelieving stares. "Get real, the last sorceress on record was Sorceress Edea, and she's no longer in business."

"Hey, I heard what I heard! One of those kids was about to piss his pants, he wouldn't have been bluffing about getting that girl to disappear!"

"So there's three of them and a dog?"

"Yes, one girl and two boys."

As the other two were being untied, the female guard got hold of a hand held radio. "Come in sir, this is officer Choma. Do you read me?" No answer came from the other side. "Sir, this is officer Choma, do you read me?"

No answer. More tries were made, in vain. For, on the other side of the communicator was a severed, bloody body, with a discarded jack knife lying close by, as blood soaked as the corpse. Standing over that cadaver was the midget in the blue dress, she was holding in her hand a sharp looking purple crystal, dripping with the same dark red plasma that was already polluting the ground.

Hearing the mechanical radio, she picked it up, listening to what was being said.

"_Sir,"_ It began, "_can you hear me? We have reasons to suspect we've got a resistance faction loose in the building!"_

The midget dropped the hand radio.

_They've found us!_ She panicked. Looking down at the soapy textured crystal in her hand. Enveloping it in a fist, she ran away from the body, and out of the drawing room she had led the dead man into altogether. She had to worn the others.

Back with the security, the one guard angrily turned the radio off. "There's no answer."

"Then let's go after those kids before they do any damage!"

"With a sorceress?"

"Sorceress or not, they're still kids!"

With no more argument, all five of them scrambled past the hidden door, and entered the manor themselves.

Far before them, the three Forest Owls ran aimlessly down the hall. The only thing spurring them forward was Watt's frantic cries and Rinoa's reminder that it wouldn't take them long at all to know where they went.

Finally, Mordechai slowed to a complete stop, panting and wheezing while he leaned against a wall.

Rinoa stopped when she saw this. "C'mon Mordechai! It won't take them long to catch up to us!"

"If we keep running like this, it'll only delay the inevitable." He puffed, looking lazily at the young woman.

"At least we'll stand a chance!"

"Screw that!"

Both of them scowled at each other, one not willing to move, and the other very willing to do the opposite.

"I've got an idea sir," Watts spoke, "the SeeDs aren't doing anything. Can you call them to help us?"

Rinoa took very little time in getting her walkie-talkie out.

§

Selphie and Zell stood alone in the basement with the empty crate.

"So what do you wanna do now?" Asked the girl.

"I dunno? No one ever told us what to do if a mission is cancelled."

Both of them nodded with heavy grief, directionless and all, not having anything to do. "Man, this leadership stuff is hard." Zell whined weekly. "Squall made it look so easy."

A flicker of hope shone, and Selphie's face shone with glee. "Let's find a way outside."

"You know, I was just about to say that." Boasted the other SeeD.

They were unable to go only a few steps towards the door when they were met by a pack of five dogs, all of which were growling and barking angrily. Two of them were Rottweilers and two were German Shepherds, the last was a Dalmatian mutt, and all of them were wearing collars, suggesting that they were the guard dogs Rinoa had mentioned earlier.

One look at them and Selphie cooed happily, "Oh look, doggies."

"Yeah, doggies." Agreed Zell with less excitement and more worry.

The supposed leader jumped at the blonde mercenary, intent on getting his throat. Thanks to his quick reflexes that had been fine tuned over the years, he managed to keep the dog's jaws away from him, but not without some frantic struggling.

"Hey!" Yelped Selphie. "You leave him alone!" She brought her nunchaku up to break the German Shepherd's back, but was tackled by the other dogs. Those dogs took a beating from the flailing levers, but kept on coming regardless.

The dog that Zell wrestled with began to leave sway on him, and its jaws began to close. Aware of this, he had no choice but to resort to magic. Swiftly, he concocted a medium spell of fire: calling the fira by title: "_hyaja_".

The spell not only got the dog off of him, but the poor animal began to howl madly as it ran around the room, engulfed in fire.

All the dogs that attacked Selphie took a single look at their burning leader and fled to all areas of the room. Two caught fire in only a few short seconds.

Both Zell and Selphie, unlike the dogs, ran straight for the door. Selphie turned around only to snuff the fire with water magic, calling the spell out as: '_Nrisam_'. The dogs calmed down, but the leader had died from both the fira blast and water blast, the other members of the pack had no further need to fight.

The two humans ran until they met the first intersection of the hall, and stopped at the corner. Both sat down on the moist cement in exhaustion.

"Do you think they'll come back for us?" Asked Selphie when she was finished panting.

"What do I look like? A pet psychic?"

Suddenly, the walkie-talkie began to crackle. Zell reached into his pocket. "Hello." Casually, he greeted.

"Zell, Selphie!" They both heard Rinoa panic over the waves.

"Yo! S'up? And what did I say about 'over'? Over."

"There's no time for that! Now listen up! We've been caught and we need your help!"

"Where are you being held?"

"We haven't actually been seen, but security knows we're here!"

"Okay, where are you?"

"In the house, near the back. Most likely the kitchen. Hurry, or it'll be somewhere else!"

Transmission ended with a violent crack before any of them could ask any more questions. Indeed, they were both worried.

§

While the chase proceeded in the back of the house, the ballroom atmosphere remained normal, or so it seamed.

When Ambassador Gatchmen had left, the party seamed to have continued at its regular interval. It only took one gag to turn it around. Someone at the back began to froth, then collapse, several fallowed in disturbing redundancy. The four Forest Owls saw it all. Several would gag, some would froth, and then they fell over in dead silence, until they were all down.

Andy spoke first. "What the hell was that all about?"

Rind bent down to inspect one of the bodies. "Poisoning." He began. "It must have been handed out, hidden in that champagne." He surveyed the saliva that poured from the corpses' mouths. It was unnaturally yellow.

"Well, now aren't you glad I told us not to drink anything?" Everyone shook their heads slowly with clear shock.

The double doors that led out into the foyer flew wide open, allowing two men to enter; two, burly, armed men. From the look of their shabby attire, they were not security guards, and not there for the formal party either.

"Look," the smaller of the two pointed, speaking Valoo, "a few of them didn't take the bait!" The four Owls looked upon the two men with apparent fear.

"Damn, I all of sudden feel very stupid in this suit." Rind whispered to Red Hawk.

"Shut up and don't look threatening." He sternly whispered back.

The larger of the two took out a dagger from inside the vest he wore, the smaller one held up a silenced gun.

The one with the gun sneered at the four. "Time to say goodnight." The Owls debated if it was worth running. They decided against it when they saw that there were more people appearing from all sides. Some of which were in formal attire, obviously hidden among the crowd, and some were in street clothes. One thing was similar with them all, though. They were all Forest Bears.

One of the Bears shouted, "Owls! Kill them now!"

"With pleasure." The one with the gun grinned, aiming his gun at Spikes.

The midget appeared from one of the side doors. "We've been caught!" She yelled, startling the gunman and forcing him to look toward the source of the noise. This distraction gave Spikes enough time to get to the small aluminium triangles he kept in one of his suit pockets, and fling one at the gunman's neck. The victim seamed to not know what hit him. The blood from his neck flowed freely, even after he collapsed. The man beside him looked down at the recently fallen, then angrily, back at Spikes.

"The buggers are armed!" He yelled, charging at them with his dagger at the ready. Several of the Bears began to charge as well, many with daggers and dirks, but some with boomerangs and small hatchets.

The Forest Owls were caught in the middle. Spikes, with his agility, climbed the eagle statue. The Bears with boomerangs aimed primarily at him. Spikes took out three more with his triangles.

Red Hawk aimed to collect one of the weapons from the fallen Bears, but the unidentified man stopped him. Taking him by the throat, he lifted the red head up off his feet. "I'm being paid good gill to kill you off," he chuckled, "and I'm going to make sure I do a good job." The grip on Red Hawk's neck tightened. A groping sensation of unconsciousness made way as it did so. How does it feel, to slowly drown on dry land? He couldn't feel his throat, couldn't feel his brain. The air grew stail, cold, then stopped. Thrashing madly, his only concern was for breath, even through a haze grew increasingly as he tried desperately to swallow.

A flash of fiery light came, and the mercenary dropped his victim, Red Hawk gasped in new air, able to feel this throat and brain again. The older man screamed in severed pain. Red Hawk looked up from the floor to see that his back had been burned. Another shot of pure fire came out and singed one of the Forest Bears. All turned to the front door of the ballroom to see two newcomers. Neither Bear, nor Owl, but two SeeDs: Selphie and Zell.

"Who knew that that fire exit would lead here?" Zell asked his partner without letting his eyes off the crowd before him.

"I don't know," She replied, also keeping watch of the crowd. "I thought they only went outside."

One of the Forest Bears, a cocky looking guy, strutted up to Selphie, looking particularly at her nunchaku.

"Oh look, does the kitten think she can fight?"

In rage, she whacked him in the face with her weapon, breaking his jaw.

Another one of the Forest Bears shouted in fear and surprise. "Holy crap! That kitten has more then claws!" The fighting started up again. This time, it was directed at the SeeDs.

The big mercenary got up from his crouched position, no longer feeling the pain of his burn. He pushed through the small crowd of Forest Bears. Now, Red Hawk had the chance to grab a weapon.

Picking up a discarded, rusted looking dirk, he charged at the nearest Bear, digging the dirty metal blade into his back. Those that noticed their fellow resistance member go down started to charge him. From his perch on the eagle, Spikes took out another two Bears. His aim was uncanny.

Through the doors all around the ballroom, and even from places that didn't seem to be there, more Bears came forth. Spikes had forgotten just how large the group was.

Neither of them noticed the midget; she had scrambled up onto the balcony. Spikes noticed this first. He surveyed the street brawl below to find her, not until he looked up did he see her. A tiny little human being standing by the railing. He took out another triangle and aimed for her. The aim was true, but as it came close, it seamed to hit something. A faint blue shield appeared, as well as a springing 'shing' sound as the triangle hit it. The aluminium scrap did hit her, but it did not kill her, barely any blood was drawn.


	7. Finding, Undescribing

7

Finding, Undescribing

Ellone sat in the back of the palace library, nose deep in a book about human psychological disorders. Her own unique talent of 'pushing' the conscious into the subconscious gave her fascinating insights to how an individual mind was shaped, and gave her a great deal of interest in psychology. Right then, she was studying up to become a psychologist, mainly in the areas of the more depressing psychosis. According to what she heard, there was a staggering shortage of people in that area. Since she was always ready to help her fellow human beings, it seamed the logical direction for her.

The floor underneath her shuddered violently, again. It was the third time that week it had happened, and the worst part was the shuddering was coming in faster each time. Ellone put her book down with an angry scowl, marching out of the library and down the brightly lit corridors of the legislative palace of Esthar. Ornately laced with brass buttresses and lined with glass, it took Ellone a while to walk through that hall without worrying about it breaking underneath her.

She stormed the huge door to the Prime Minister's office. Prime Minister Laguna Loire was sitting in front of the huge console, back to her, his feet up on the control board, and a phone glued to his ear.

"Uncle Laguna," She started with vinegar in her voice, speaking with a Grellian accent, only native to her home of Winhill, sounding quite Italian to the ear. The country was made up of many different people who spoke different variations of Winhill. Still, if one were to learn just one variation, that person could pretty much speak the rest of them as well.

Laguna lowered the phone, turning his spinning chair around to look at her. "Not now Elle, I'm in se middle of an important call." The Prime Minister spoke with a New Galbadian accent that was starting to grow a hint of Estharian in it. He turned his chair around to resume talking on the phone. "Sat's right, free doughnuts…a dozen. Really? Can I have custard in six, and strawberry filling in se oser half…? No, on se oser hand, make sem all custard filled."

"Uncle Laguna!" Ellone shouted, stomping towards him, grabbing the phone away from him. "Dr. Odine is acting up his Hyne-knows-only experiments again. You said you would do something about that main sewage drain that connects from his lab to the palace.

Now, Laguna was listening. "I know, but vat harm can come if he uses se same sevage drain as us?"

"Everything! That pipe is like an explosion subway! It's rocking the foundation and breaking everything that isn't glued down. The maid can't check the boiler because of the smell, and I'm afraid to use the toilet!"

"Vich one?"

"All of them! I've been going in pots for the longest time!"

"So sat's vat happened to sem."

"Can't you do anything about him?"

"You know I vould, but I…uh…I…,just sink of it as a really loud party vith stink bombs."

"And what about the toilets?"

"Put a flame srower in every bathroom."

Defeated, Ellone turned around, skulking out of the room.

Before she left through the door, she turned around to look back at Laguna. "Sometimes I wonder if you have any idea how dangerous those experiments of his are."

"Now Ellone, you know I don't." He answered courteously. "Tell ya vat, if someone dies because of sose experiments, I'll get on his back."

"You know, that's not very reassuring."

"I vouldn't be careless Ellone. You're se closest sing I have to a daughter, or a son, come to sink of it."

Ellone nearly choked over the last words Laguna spoke.

_Don't say anything. He knows nothing. He's happy with his life right now._

"Is something vrong?" Laguna asked with concern. "You look kindda…pukish."

"I'm fine." She squeaked, running out of the office with nervous speed.

§

The streets of New Coroner pertained its usual ambience of cars, trashcans, sidewalks, and look-alike people heading about the street either because they had something to do or they didn't.

Seifer headed down one of the more junky of streets, the hilt of his gunblade resting on his shoulder.

It was bad enough that he had been fired from work last night, now he and his posse would be evicted unless he managed to get enough money to pay rent. He would have been able to pay the rent if he hadn't have pissed the gill away on a door. After the endless hours of pining his mind for an answer, he only came up with one conclusion.

The chimes of a bell rang as Seifer stepped through the door to one of the street shops.

He dropped his gunblade, Hyperion, on the counter up front.

"How much can I get for this?" He asked, trying not to cry.

The manager of the pawnshop took Hyperion with both hands and studied it. Every detail of the weapon was observed with patience. Seifer was sweating with anticipation, trying not to open his mouth.

_Oh, c'mon, get it over with already!_

Putting down Hyperion, the manager opened his cash register. "I can give you a thousand gill for the gunblade." Like everyone in town, he spoke New Galbadian.

"WHAT!" Shouted Seifer. "One grand for a top-of-the-line-don't-see-every-day-been-places-killed-dragons gunblade?!"

"Now look here kid." The manager began sternly, holding up the gunblade. "You see these knicks? Well, they don't do good for value. The colour's faded. The very tip of the hilt is nubbed. The blade has been hacked beyond repair. The gun is loose from the blade. And the steel is still crusted with blood and Hyne Only Knows."

"Yeah, I was meaning to getting around to cleaning that."

Seifer got a nasty look from the manager before he put Hyperion under the counter. "Plus, you have not collateral. You're a nobody. Ya hear?"

"So?"

"So. You get nothin' without the name."

"I do have a name. I'm Seifer Almasy."

The pawnshop manager stared at him blankly.

"Seifer Almasy," he continued, "Sorceress Edea's knight. I was on TV when they broadcasted her parade in Deling."

Surprisingly enough, the manager laughed. "Ha, that's a good one. Tell ya what, I'll give you two thousand gill just because I like your story."

"Oh, you think I'm a liar?"

"I can always lower it." The manager spoke more seriously.

Seifer thought of his options for a second. "Fine!" He spat.

The bell rang again as he walked out, two thousand gill richer and not happy about it. It was a pity he didn't put up a better fight for that money. Already, he was regretting it, and starting to tear up. But, he really didn't feel like putting up much of a scuffle at the moment.

_Two thousand gill. I sold Hyperion for two thousand gill._

Behind the darkness of the ally, a large man in a dirty muscle shirt stepped out into the sun, glaring angrily at Seifer.

"Hey! Almasy!" He yelled.

He turned around, misery forgotten and freezing instantly to the spot. _Oh yeah, I forgot about him._

The big man, known as Fister, grabbed the young man by his coat collar and pulled him up in front of his face. He was hauled up high enough for his feet to dangle just above the ground.

"You owe my boss fifty thousand gill, ya here!" Barked Fister at his face. His breath smelled terrible.

"I know, I know." Seifer tried to defended, smiling awkwardly to show any sincerity. Truth be told, he had completely forgotten. "Just give me a week."

"You've had a week!"

"I know, I'm just having a bit of a financial slump. Not everyone is as well off as your boss."

"Then you shouldn't have bet on the Runners. Everyone in Galbadian knows they're the worst team!"

"Well, I'm a little new to this country, so…"

"So, nothin'!" Fister threw Seifer onto the sidewalk, as if disgusted to hold onto him anymore. "You scrounge up an arm and a leg by the end of the week, or I'm taking yours boy-o!" He stormed off down the street, but Seifer still didn't feel safe.

_What! now I gotta pay off gambling depts? Do I have to sell an organ to get any real cash around here?_

He walked the rest of the way to the boarding house all stressed and ready to scream.

Back at 'home', he became even more stressed when the door fell in by just touching the knob. _I paid a thousand gill for this piece-of-crap door?!_ Fujin was sitting on the couch looking through the wanted adds, while Raijin was hanging up all the curtains and free blankets to cover the empty space where the wall used to be. So far, he was almost finished. None of them seemed to notice he had come in.

"Hey, Fujin." Seifer started, startling the one eyed woman, whom nearly dropped the paper. "Found anything?"

"WANTED! ORDERLY!" She looked over at him, pointing to a wanted add. It was for a mental institute over a hundred miles out of town.

Raijin turned from his work curiously. "They pay you for being older?"

"Not elderly!" Scolded Seifer, "orderly. Serving food in hospitals, like that!"

"Like a waiter?"

"Yes, only they don't need to have a fruity Dollet accent."

"Dollet accent?"

"Just go back to hanging those sheets."

"Well, ok, ya know," sighed Raijin, turning around to hang a green sheet up with a nail. "I don't think I have enough blankets and curtains to cover the whole front wall, ya know."

"Just do your best." Seifer replied weakly, nor really caring. He was more interested in the job Fujin had found. She didn't say anything, but did look annoyed when the paper was yanked out of her hands. Seifer surveyed the ad more closely.

"North Yaulny Hospital!" He scoffed, throwing the paper back down on Fujin's lap. "That's not a hospital, that's a prison! Deling only made it to boost public support. Yet, everyone knows he blew all his funds on the D-District Prison. From what I heard, that place is a hell hole!" He threw the paper back at Fujin, hitting her in the face.

"PAYING JOB!" Fujin reminded.

"Yeah, so it is. But promise me you'll confirm all the rumours that are told about that place."

"YOU! NEED EMPLOYMENT!"

"I'll get to that! I just have to figure out our money problem first."

"GAMBLING PROBLEM! BREAKING OUR BACK!"

"That's not the only thing it's goinna break." He cringed, thinking of Fister and his threat.

"RUNNERS, LOUSY TEAM! EVERYONE KNOWS!"

"What! You know too? How come no one ever tells me these things?"

Now, Raijin joined in the conversation. "You were so insistent you were making the right choice, ya know."

"Hey, Seifer Almasy never makes mistakes. He just gets bad luck."

"Was it your bad luck that the wall fell down?"

"Yes, Raijin, it's all bad luck."

"Is that why you don't have your gunblade?"

"I'd rather not discuss that."

"PAWNED IT!" Fujin quipped, looking up from the paper.

"Pawned it?" Raijin asked, scratching his head. "What does that mean, ya know?"

"It means I sold it to pay for the lousy rent!"

"How much didja get?"

"Two grand."

"Wow, two grand!" Raijin remarked with excitement. "I didn't think that thing would bring in that much gill!"

"Then you don't know gunblades very well. Hyperion was easily worth more then that."

"Then why didn't you get that, ya know?"

"Because I'm a nobody!" He crossed his arms sternly, an ugly frown on his face.

A bathtub fell through the ceiling just behind their couch. All three coughed from the debris its crash raised.

"All right!" Cheered Raijin when he was finished coughing. "We got a place to take a bath, ya know. All we need now is to connect it to the plumbing."

Seifer gave another one of his scowls. "Raijin, we already have a bathtub."

"Yeah, but this one doesn't have rust stains, ya know. And it probably wouldn't be itchy on the ass either."

§

Through the bright green foliage of the Roshfall forest, far to the northeast, Brokk wondered forward on the dirt path built for hikers.

"I love the forest," he began dreamily, "the fresh air, the plant life, the birds singing, and even that sound of running water you hear when near a creak. Wouldn't you agree Irvine?"

Irvine walked beside him, but wasn't as excited as Brokk. "I would enjoy it better if you hadn't have barged into my room last night!" The two had known each other in Galbadia Garden. Then again, Irvine had known a lot of people in Galbadia, so pretty much all of the Galbadian transfers knew him in one way or the other, but Brokk was one of the few who didn't think him a complete playboy.

"I told you, didn't I?" Brokk whined, "My neighbour was keeping me up. He was banging his head on the wall and muttering a bunch of stuff in Alcauldian."

"How can you be sure it was a 'he'?"

"Sounded like a 'he'. Unless it was a woman with a rather deep voice."

"A deep voiced woman, ya say." Cooed Irvine. "Did she say something interesting?"

"How should I know? My Alcauldian sucks. When I was still in Galbadia, I thought that the only language spoken in Balamb was Balambese. Now, I learn they have two official languages! I mean, where the bloody hell did this Alcauldian come! This continent isn't big enough to produce two totally different languages!"

"Search me? I just know that chicks dig a guy who can speak Alcauldian."

"Really? I thought it was Dollet."

"It's also included. But I can't, like, speak Dollet."

Irvine could remember when he spoke Galbadian and only Galbadian. When he first met Squall and the others, he had assumed they could only speak Alcauldian. He got a surprise when he learned they could speak the three forms of Galbadian fluently. Squall and Quistis could even take on a Galbadian accent. It had made him feel really dumb.

Having a great need for communication within the group, he had gotten Zell to teach him Balambese, and Squall; Alcauldian. The teaching methods of Zell were pretty much on-and-off, dealing out lessons where he saw fit. Squall was a different story. The guy was strict. If Irvine said a wrong word, mispronounced, or used Galbadian during a lesson, he would be hit and scolded. The lessons did pay off, though; he spoke fluent Alcauldian before he could conjugate properly in Balambese. Like he had said, chicks did dig a guy who could speak Alcauldian, at least those that didn't speak it as a first or second language. Next, would be the accent, for he still had trouble rolling the 'r's.

"I can't believe it's the Weekend." Brokk started with a happy note. "I've heard a lot of stuff about that Garden Festival, but barely anything about this Weekend."

"That's because this day is, like, an excuse for the Headmaster to search the dorms of any smuggled items."

"And the Garden Festival isn't?"

"No way! It's, like, expected of him to be present."

The Weekend was not an orderly holiday. Most of the candidates and junior classmen were swimming in the lake. Everyone else just sat around, some even brought picnic baskets and cloths. All this, done in the shadow of Garden, which wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

A couple of SeeD women, both in casual clothes, were standing by a pine tree, discussing free trade rights, Galbadian corruption, and the hottest singer in the latest issue of some musician's magazine.

Out from the direction of Garden, Quistis headed along the dirt path to meet those two girls, a big burlap sack thrown over her shoulder. Things had become slow for her, since most of her friends were away on missions. Her closest of allies were either Irvine, who was off with his friends, or Squall, who wasn't the most pleasing person to talk too. Her social situation was lousy; all she could talk to were 'the girls', as long as they weren't Trepies.

One of the SeeD girls: a tall, dirty blond chick, noticed Quistis coming, and also noticed the burlap sack.

"Hey there Quistis. Whatcha got in the sack? Fruit? Books? Kick balls? Bricks?"

"Squall." She answered point blank, throwing the sack down in front of her feet. "I thought it would be nice for him to get some actual human contact before he's shut up in his lair again."

"Yeah," started the other girl. "You've always had a soft spot for dangerous beasts."

"He's not dangerous if you get to know him. I had him for a student for one year."

"And how was it?" Asked the blond girl.

"It would have been nicer if he responded to his name." Quistis answered. "And, if he didn't handle anything flammable… and if he would have looked to the front of the class once and a while. Understanding directions better would have been a plus as well."

"Or, when he attacks you."

"He never attacked me physically."

"Then what was that that happened yesterday?"

"How should I know? It was like he was in an entirely different universe, more so then usual, and I was replaced by something he hates."

"You know what I think," the other girl suggested, "the sorceress enchanted him."

Quistis gave a stern look at her. "Now how would you prove that?"

"Hey! I'm not the only one who thinks so. Almost everyone in Garden thinks the sorceress cast a spell on him."

"And why would she do that?"

"Duh!" Quipped the blonde. "We're here to destroy her and the like. So she wanted to crush us from the inside."

"If Squall heard that, he'd be so mad at you two, the Dragon's Wrath would reach knew heights."

At Quistis' feet, the sack stirred to life. "I did hear that!" Came the muffled shout of Squall.

The two girls stood stark still with shock and fear, looking at each other with sideway glances.

"Um," the shorter of the two started, "Squall, would it be possible for you to ignore what we just said? Because you'll just hear it from someone else anyway."

"I will, IF YOU LET ME OUT OF THIS SACK!" The burlap wavered and stirred as he kicked and clawed at the fabric from within. Quistis crouched down to untie the sack.

Clawing the rest of his way out, Squall looked back at his former instructor wickedly. "Was there any reason to knock me unconscious and drag me here like a rotting corpse?"

"Well, you wouldn't have come any other way, and I've run out of ideas to get you here."

"I was happy staring at the wall, thank you." He turned away from her and crossed his arms bitterly.

"Sure you were." Quistis replied, smiling wryly and standing up. "Just promise me you won't destroy today like you did the last three years. No one will ever forget your Screech Owl routine."

"Fine! I'll stay right here and not scare the Junior classmen!"

All three of the girls gave inane glances at him and each other. All Quistis had to do was shrug her shoulders and they all left, leaving Squall to stew in his aggravation alone. For a long time he sat there, starring at life's passing parade. To him, it seamed that life's passing parade was staring at him. The paranoia he had nursed was getting the best of him, moulding the conversations of others into teasing and back talk, all against him. It all made him angry. Very angry.

A sound rustled from behind him, almost like a voice, though, not in any language he had heard. He turned around curiously to see that, behind him was a thick brush that went into the deeper part of the woods. Squall got up, eagerly thankful for any distraction to get him away from the stares and 'ridicule'.

From in the thicket of the gathering, Irvine had found a female companion to talk to. He was sitting on the grass in front of her, leaning on his left hand and gesturing with his right, talking about whatever came to his mind. And, what had come to his mind was the weather. The girl scoffed at him and walked away.

"Having fun?" Brokk chuckled.


	8. Second Dismissal

8

Second Dismissal

In back of the Hutchin's old house, a twine basket had been hung up on the lentil of the back door.

Zell, along with several other members of the Forest Owls were playing a game of freestyle basketball with the ball Selphie had found. Zell was the one who had the ball at that moment. He nimbly dodged Brine, who was defending his team's basket. Unfortunately, Zell was quicker, and in better shape then him, and managed a basket. He dunked the pale teal ball through, nearly ripping the basket off the lentil.

"Squish!" Remarked Cody, a teammate of Zell's.

"No fair man." Whined Brine. "You've got more gusto then me."

"Not my problem." He replied.

By a window up on the third floor, Selphie watched them. "I didn't know Zell was so good at B-ball, did you?"

"Not that I was interested," Rinoa sighed, sitting in the far left corner of the room on a wicker chair. "I can't believe almost everyone is out there having fun. And, as usual, the girls have to do all the work."

"Who are you calling a girl?" Corrected Zone, looking up from his paperback. He was sitting in the far right corner on the floor.

"You don't count."

"Hey! It's not work!" Selphie started cheerfully. "All we have to do is watch Spikes." She pointed towards a bed beside the window. Spikes was curled up under the sheets.

"Watch him for what? He's asleep." Snapped Rinoa.

"You weren't to hung up to watch Squall when he was unconscious?"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry, but you're the one who peeked under his blanket and had the nerve to tell me that it was good."

"Whoa!" Zone butted in. "I don't think I need to hear anymore."

"You sure?" Selphie asked innocently enough.

"YES!"

They had gotten Spikes back safely enough. Some debate had gone around about who would get his bloody clothes off him. The argument had gone on for the longest time, even when Spikes had become conscious. They finally decided with the aid of a Random Rhyme. Watts had been the unfortunate, but he had gotten him into a bed up on the third floor after falling down a couple of times. The rest had helped out with cleaning and mending wounds. His arm was broken in five places, three of his ribs were busted, he had gotten a massive concussion that made everyone paranoid, severe bruises, several missing teeth, a bloodied black eye, and one heck of a battered leg. Rinoa was skeptical if he would live without medical attention. Zone had made it clear that they could not afford such luxury as a doctor, then he had another stomach cramp.

From Watts, they had learned that the police who had, unfortunately, Galbadian soldiers with them, apprehended the Forest Bears that remained at the Domane house. Their fate would not be pretty. There was no word about the large hit man. The damage to the house was a monumental cost in the affairs of house repair, not that that wasn't expected. Zone and his team of Lookouts would have been caught if they hadn't had gotten a ride with Lucky just as soon as they heard the fight break out from inside the house. Many of them were interested in Zell's telling of the GF that Ursula had. He was more then happy to tell them about it, even though he did embellish a little.

Rinoa had thrown a fit when she learned that all they got for their troubles was a ball, and a piece of crystallized rock. Everyone felt it was in the interest of her spoils to have a go at basketball. They took to it quite nicely, while Selphie, Rinoa, and Zone were left to keep an eye on Spikes, making sure he didn't keel over on them.

Skulking in her wicker chair, Rinoa whined some more. "This place is so suffocating. Isn't there anything exiting in this room that doesn't require looking under blankets?" She raised a brow suspiciously at Selphie as she mentioned that.

"Well," the SeeD started, placing her finger on the bottom of her lip. "Do you have a coupon for those chocobo rentals at that place you were talking about?"

"I said in this room, didn't…" She stopped suddenly, seemingly to have spotted something hovering in the air. "Of coarse!"

"Of coarse what?"

"I'm goinna write Squall a letter."

"But he doesn't have a listed address." Selphie stammered.

"That's where the chocobos come in. I want you to deliver it."

"Can't you just transport yourself there?"

"You crazy! I'm not going to teleport into some place where everyone wants me dead!"

"Okay, so if the Garden wasn't in Roshfall, how would I get to it otherwise?"

"You don't need to worry about that, because you just said it yourself: the Garden's in Roshfall. Now I've got a letter to write."

Hurriedly and excited, Rinoa ran out or the room, her footsteps quite audible as she made her way down the stairs.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Selphie called, fallowing them out. Zone looked up from his paperback when he heard the girl fall down the stairs in her rush. A few seconds later when the sound of her crashing died out, he heard her reply: "Don't worry! I'm okay!"

Zone got back to his book. "That was quite spur of the moment."

§

Rinoa flung open the door to her room, grabbing a pen and paper as soon as she entered. From on her bed, Angelo woke up. She looked at her master curiously as she sat down at her desk and started writing.

_Dear Squall:_

_I've been waiting so long to talk to you. By my account over here, you're the only one I can say would have anything intelligent to say. I am also quite bored at the moment; I guess you know how that feels. You probably are, too, what with having to stay in the Garden twenty-four-seven. I would have used my own power to take me to Garden, I know I could, but I don't think things would be very good if anyone else caught me there, so I'm sending Selphie. I have more faith in her then Zell; I can't trust his mouth._

_I'm keeping this letter short and sweet for the sole purpose that I am low on paper, can't afford much more, and I need most of it to continue my work. I am currently writing editorials for the local paper, I have yet to know if anybody reads them._

_Angelo is fine; she's as lively as ever. I'm sure she misses you too. I know I would if you kept passing me food under the table and played fetch with a dead bird._

_I hope, that when you get this letter, if you get this letter, that you will write me back. I hope it would be better then just ten words or less. That reminds me, I've never seen your handwriting! I'd tell you more about what happened since I left, but I can honestly say not a lot has._

_How are you feeling? I wouldn't be surprised if it's no picnic living off half your blood supply. Hope you get better soon._

_Love  
-Rinoa_

She finished her letter. Since it would be delivered personally, she had no need to use an envelope. A good thing, since she had no envelopes. She did, however, fold the letter into three, then tie it with a yellow ribbon she kept hidden away in her drawer of junk, stuffed somewhere in the back.

Exiting her room quickly with Angelo fallowing and barking at her heals; she headed down the stairs to the back door. Selphie had caught up from around the corner, still a little shaky over falling down the stairs. The girl called for Rinoa to wait up, but to no avail.

Outside, the game of basketball continued. Brix was in front of Zell, trying to get the ball away from him. Taking a swift move, he swatted the dribbling ball away from him. No one caught it. The ball rolled away from the dirt patch they were playing on, all the way to Rinoa's feet. She picked up the ball with delight, running back inside.

The boys all started to complain when they saw her leave with it, but none bothered to go after her, since none were up to running after her at all.

Back inside, Selphie was waiting for her, but she did not stop until she got to the kitchen.

"Whatcha looking for?" Asked Selphie, but she did not get an answer. Rinoa shuffled through the drawers situated on the counter. She rummaged through them, taking out a roll of tape, and the purple crystal.

She looked at each of them separately, turning finally, toward Selphie.

"Help me out here Selphie." She started, holding the two objects in front of her. "What should I give Squall? The crystal, or the ball?"

"Whatever's prettier." She replied.

"The ball." Rinoa concluded. "This rock is hideous." She threw the rock aside. Taking a string of tape. She shaped it into a loop, stuck it onto the bottom of the ball, then, put the letter on top of the tape.

She handed the ball and letter to Selphie. "Let's get in the car and head down to the chocobo rentals."

"Oh, goody! Can we go in the good car?"

"Just as long as nobody's using it."

Selphie jumped with excitement some more. Rinoa had to drag her out of the house to make sure she fallowed.

§

Rinoa drove the burgundy car, with Selphie in the driver's seat, and Angelo squeezed in the middle. Selphie talked about nothing but chocobos and how she liked them. Rinoa hoped the girl wouldn't scare them all off.

She had given Selphie a hundred gill, and enough time to get a light pack of camping equipment, as it would take a couple of days to get to the Garden's position.

The car skidded to a halt in the large dirt driveway by the ranch. It was a long drive, approximately five hours, and Rinoa was glad to have a reason to get out and walk before she had to drive the next five hours back in darkness. It was late in the evening, the same time Squall was having his conversation with Cloak back at Garden.

Selphie jumped out of the car with as much vigor as escaping gas. She ran immediately towards the pen where the chocobos were kept, with Angelo fallowing to see what she was doing. Rinoa headed towards the Head of the ranch, standing by the pen gate. She still held onto the ball and letter.

The rancher looked over towards her when he heard her coming. The guy was in his early fifties, with graying hair, Rinoa had come to know him well, much like the rest of the Owls, although, he was apart of the Forest Bats.

"Hello, Mr. Paries." She greeted politely. "I'm here for another chocobo."

Mr. Paries smiled at her fondly. "Well, you goin' flower huntin' again? A little late for that, isn't it?"

"I know, but I'm not doing anything." She called for Selphie. Mr. Paries looked curiously at the new girl, but was not agitated in the least; he knew when he saw a good customer.

"I have Selphie here to make a delivery." Continued Rinoa. "Since vehicles aren't very good with the forest terrain, we were both going for a chocobo. We'll need one for about a week."

"A week, ya say?" He asked her.

"Yeah, it's a long distance delivery."

Mr. Paries was curious about what it was she was doing without a member of her group, but decided against it. It was none of his business anyway. He opened the gate with the two girls fallowing him in. Angelo wanted to come, but Rinoa made sure to tell her to stay. Mr. Paries stopped at a slight specimen of a chocobo. Young too. Younger then the usual chocobos they were given.

"This is Sly." He started, patting the back of the giant bird. Sly looked at the two new girls, rubbing his beak on Selphie's cheek, making her giggle. "He's my best delivery chocobo." The rancher continued. "He's not the fastest of the group, but he's got the best stamina of any of 'em."

Rinoa looked away from the bird back to Mr. Paries. "Thank you sir, but I don't think we can even afford to rent your prime birds."

"Not a problem Miss Heartily, I can lend you this bird for the regular price."

"Thank you Mr. Paries. Thank you so much." She happily shook Selphie's shoulder. "_Selphie, han bik miama daigor._" Selphie, you can use this bird.

She cheered with her hands shooting up into the air, bouncing up and down.

Rinoa paid Mr. Paries upfront. He thanked her and left the pen to get the saddle and reins for Sly.

"Now Selphie," Rinoa instructed. "Do you have room for this in your pack?" She held up the ball and letter combo.

Selphie looked at the pair of objects. "I think so." Getting down on her knees, she opened her pack. A simple sleeping bag was hung in front, with dried food and some chocobo greens in the bag, she would have no need for cooking supplies or tinder with the distance she was traveling. When given the ball and letter, she made room by stuffing it in carelessly.

Rinoa looked at her carelessness with impatience. "Hey! Easy, don't rip the letter."

"Oh, don't be so stiff." Selphie assured, giving her an apathetic wave of her hand. She tied the bag up. "When can I leave?" She asked happily.

"As soon as Mr. Paries gets here with the saddle, you can leave right away. If you're lucky, you can make it to Garden by early afternoon the day after tomorrow."

"Just as long as the pilot doesn't move it. But he shouldn't, I heard they don't do a lot of moving in the summer."

"I wonder who the pilot of the Garden is anyway?" Rinoa asked, not aiming for any answer in particular.

"I think his name's Nida." Selphie answered anyway.

"Oh yeah, that dark haired guy." She remembered him faintly. "I wonder what he's doing now?"

§

Nida put the silencer on his gun. The moment had come. Yagi was getting more nervous, Kord was asking way too many questions, and Rick was telling him to get his gear in motion. It was time he accomplished what he promised, the death of Headmaster Cid.

It was 21:00 hours; curfew wasn't in effect until 22:00 hours, which gave him one hour before his current alibi was useless. He knew that the Headmaster would be in the Library to go through the new books coming in. If asked, his excuse was that he wanted to get in last minute studying, an excuse not new to the students, but widely believed. Even as a SeeD, he still needed to do his homework. Lucky for him, witnesses would be nil, as nobody ventured into the library past 20:00 hours, not even the bookworms, as long as their was no test the next day. That was because much of the student body preferred to stay in their dorms after supper. Everyone else was either in the training center, or the quad.

When he made his way to the Library, the gun carefully concealed by his SeeD uniform, he was unfortunately surprised to see that someone else was there, also getting last minute studying. The Headmaster was not yet there.

_Crud!_

Even though the second person was a problem, he had to be patient, hoping that the boy would leave soon. Nida took a book off the shelf, carefully, as not to get a book that would look suspicious. Taking a seat by one of the study booths, he began to look like he was studying.

§

Cloak had come back, and was becoming more of a pain then a horror.

"_You're boring. You let complete strangers step all over you. You have no sense of humour. You eat olives without any mustard…"_

"Don't you voices have anything better to do then annoy your host?" He interrupted. Lying on his back on the floor, he put his right hand over his eyes as if he had a migraine. "It's just so dry, you'd choke on it! So choke on it already!"

"_Hey, hey! I'm ranting here! Now where was I?"_

"You were telling me how boring I was."

"_That's boring! YOU'RE BORING!"_

"Well, what do you want me to do? Jump out the window?" Squall scowled, sitting himself up.

"_You know, that's a good idea. But I have a bigger purpose then to watch you get your brains splattered on cement."_

"And what is your purpose?" He hissed with agitation.

"_To protect you."_ Cloak answered with solemn glee.

"How? By telling me I'm boring? Interrupting my dreams? Disturbing my memories? Telling me that jumping out the window is a good idea?"

"_Did I mention I'm also here to criticize?"_

"Some protector you are."

"_Well excuse ME! But I'm all you GOT, Appalling Pace."_

"You're wrong Cloak! I have people! I'm not the self-reliant loner I once was! I never thought I'd say that!"

"_Look alive Appalling Pace."_ Screeched the voice. "_Those PEOPLE you claim are with you will only be so as long as they fear you."_

"Explain."

Cloak seamed happy to explain herself. "_All those people: Idiot Dincht, 'Most Evil Woman Alive' Tilmitt, Pansy Ass, Mistress Trepestrophe, all of them, right down to the kid who picked his nose in the orphanage. They only stayed beside you because they were afraid of being your enemy."_

Squall swallowed her words easily. Reflecting on his own life. How he had come to know Zell, he had stuck by him without fail, not really wanting to get very close to their assigned captain, Seifer. How Quistis was intent on straightening out his emotional dysfunctionality. How Selphie had put her faith in him with blind obedience, especially when she trusted him to warn Balamb Garden about the Galbadian missile attack. How Irvine had been so eager to learn from him. And Rinoa…did she not want to fight him, now that she was a sorceress? He backed himself up against his bed, wrapping his arms around his knees like a frightened child in the dark.

He grabbed the courage to ask Cloak again: "what do you mean 'kid who picked his nose in the orphanage'?"

The voice took a while to answer. To Squall, it was almost like she was enjoying his torment. "_Seifer."_ She finally replied. "_Can you believe he used to pick his nose? What a gas!"_

"What does that mean? Seifer's been my enemy for as long as I can remember. He wouldn't care if I burned in hell."

"_Key word: As long as **I** can remember. You may have a good memory for numbers, directions, sounds, and what not, but when it comes to faces and places, you suck eggs."_

"I think I'd remember if I ever liked Seifer!" Squall got to his feet angrily, yelling at the ceiling. His hands were put into tight fists. His eyes wavered with moister, spit started to run down his lower lip.

"_So?! You also think you remember your life in the orphanage. Well let me tell you. You only remember what others have told you. You only FEEL what others have told you to FEEL. Everything in your life you had either to learn, or create! Nothing came to you for free. But, unfortunately, too much you want is too DAMN EXPENSIVE for your emotional income."_

"I never liked Seifer!" Squall continued to yell, not paying attention to Cloak's cryptic message. "And Seifer never liked me! And I can prove it!"

Not knowing exactly what he was doing, he marched out of his room, the door opening automatically for him. Most students were in their dorm, but those that were out stayed far away from him, seeing his maniac face, the drool running down his mouth. Anyone who was fool enough to get in his way was rudely shoved aside, and some were even yelled at.

He exited the dorms, entering the ring hallway that surrounded the directory. No one was about as he continued to march down the hall, still enraged. Cloak continued to taunt.

"_Go ahead! Prove it! I know everything you know! And everything you've forgotten! Or have you forgotten already! Ha! SEE! I know that TOO!"_

The Headmaster just left the elevator, ready to look over the new library books. It was one of his duties to look over the new books that were coming into the library. For such a difference in age between his students, it was best that they were all looked over for censoring.

Making his way to the Library, whistling to himself, he noticed Squall limping forcefully down the hall, gruesome scowl and all.

Headmaster Cid waved to him. "Hello Squall."

He did not reply back, just limped past the Headmaster.

Cid did not find the behavior odd, but he was not pleased either. He did, however, watch him go by into the elevator as it ascended.

_Poor boy._ He thought. _I'd be behaving like that if I were cooped up all day in my room. Or, just attempted suicide for the second time, as I have heard. I'm surprised he hasn't killed anyone yet._

The elevator took Squall up, up to the third floor where the Headmaster's office was. Since their were no more Garden Hands, and the Headmaster had no secretary, all students were held back from his office by word only, trusting that they would obey.

"_Oh, the Headmaster's office."_ Cackled Cloak. "_And without permission. Now, this ain't boring."_

"Screw the word." Squall quipped to himself. "I'll prove that Seifer always hated me! It's all in the permanent records!"

"_Are you sure you want to see them? You know, you can't unlearn anything you find out."_

"I thought you wanted me to prove mine and Seifer's connection?!" He yelled back.

"_Your right. I did. Continue."_

Squall opened the double doors with maddened force. The reflective floors glowed with the colours of the waning sunset outside. He stared at the file cabinet at the back for a while before he walked over towards it.

He opened the drawer with the label 'S'. Sifting through the files. He came to learn soon enough that the files were sorted by last name. Enraged, he tore the metal drawer out of the cabinet, throwing it behind him without a care. The drawer crashed in back of the chair behind the Headmaster's desk, spilling all the files over the reflective floor. Squall recklessly pulled open the drawer marked 'A'. He found Seifer's last name easily enough. Almasy.

Reading from the earliest notes, he learned that Seifer and himself were given at the same time. The Headmaster needed students for his fledgling Garden. In a side note, it was mentioned that he had asked Edea if he could take any children from her orphanage that would not be adopted. Reading on, it described Seifer of having nothing to do with him in the orphanage. Not the savage rivalry he knew at the present, he just stayed as far away from him as possible because he had been strange to him. As soon as he was put in Garden though, he and Seifer were inseparable.

"_See! See! What did I tell you?!"_ Cheered Cloak.

Squall was in shocked awe, but still deep down, disbelieving. He opened up the drawer marked 'L'. Finding his name, he took it out, surprised to see that it was so thick.

Putting down Seifer's record, he began with his. The oldest records said the same thing as Seifer's, that he entered Garden at the same time. This much, he had guessed already when Irvine had first talked about the orphanage. He read on to learn that his grades had been horrendous. He had been close to failing all classes. It seamed the Headmaster had put more in his folder then in Seifer's. Much of which, was various disobediances, pranks, and records of his notorious Dragon's Wrath.

What was shocking to learn, was that he was an all around problem child, worse then Seifer. Comparing with the other record, Seifer had been an average, well-behaved student. This was all in the first year they were in Garden. The Headmaster had been ready to expel Squall, several times. Then, he started something…

He gave them their first GF's. Squall received Shiva, and Seifer, a GF named Taiwath. It was written on a side note:

_I will try to separate the two. If both Squall and Seifer have what Edea says they do, they will be affected by the GF's full potential, but I am curious as to how the effect would work if these two were to suddenly be apart again._

Reading forward, his curiosity the only thing driving him, what with Cloak becoming silent. The Headmaster wrote down his detailed plan.

_Why my record?_ He thought. _Why didn't he write this in Seifer's as well?_

The Headmaster wrote how he had the Garden Hands hit them both with meter sticks when they saw each other. Had woken both of them up in the middle of the night to tell them how bad each other were. Even electrocuting them when they spoke each other's name. The Headmaster, the man that Squall considered his only fatherly figure, had brainwashed him at a tender age.

A dramatic change had come between both of them. Even though it was written that Squall was introverted from day one, he had been seen frequently with Seifer, and was often seen about, although, not talking. But after the experiment, he had shut himself up completely, but his grades started to slowly climb. In the areas of math, science, and fighting skills, they changed for the better. His language and communicating skills collided, though. Writing in Seifer's record, his grades started to slip. He became rambunctious, more like the Seifer Squall could recall, and hate. The Headmaster had regretted the experiment after he saw the results. He tried his best to get the two together, he even gave them both gunblades. But it was too late. This all happened in the span of one year.

Squall read the files over and over. Both his and Seifer's. Each time, the lesser words became blurred, and the more important words: Failing, inseparable, experiment, GF's potential, became more prominent, jumping out in front of him like bad omens. Though, there was nothing about the GF's full potential he could find. From what he learned, GF's effected memory. But he was sure he was losing his just fine. Did that mean that he did not have what the Headmaster thought he had? Or was there something else.

He churned through the files more furiously. Eventually throwing them carelessly aside, he skimmed through several others, directionless. He finally came down to throwing files out at random. The floor of the office was covered with permanent records. Not finding what he wanted, he gave up, hissing at the file cabinet, storming out of the office even more aggravated then when he entered.

He opened the double doors by slamming his fists against them. He had become a raging beast, pressing forward in berserk rage. It wasn't until he got to the main floor again did his appearance change. Not that it was any better. His raging self was replaced by emptiness. Squall had lost much of his former sense of self. His decency had been torn in half by mistrust. It was from that point forward, he was sure he could not go back. Urging him forward was the twisted voice of Cloak.

"_Ashwáδnìg ilσillfiôd hgnmðkaôk hìæn…!"_ The language was unknown, but Squall seamed to understand it. She was enraged, and loving it. "_Everything is too damn expensive. Time to do a little shoplifting."_

§

Nida's plan was not going very well. The student who was putting in some real studying, was still there. Now, Rick and Dina came in.

"What are you doing here?" He was more annoyed then nervous. His target had come in and was looking at the books, but the presence of Rick and Dina changed much more.

"Relax." Reassured Rick coolly. "Curfew isn't for another fifteen minutes."

"That's not what I mean." He looked at the Headmaster and the other student, making sure they weren't paying attention to him. Then he began to Dina and Rick in a whisper. "I'm here to take care of things."

"You need studying too?"

"No! Things." He pointed to where he kept the silenced gun hidden, in a holster under his uniform jacket.

"Dude, that's deep." Rick misunderstood.

Dina, on the other hand, had a good idea about what he was going to do. "Don't worry Nida, we aren't taddles. We want this as much as you."

"That's not what I mean!" He kept his voice down in spite of his anger. He was about to continue when he saw someone else come into the library. Squall.

The guy looked run down. His eyes were staring right out in front, just like a marionette. His mouth hung down absentmindedly. It looked to Nida as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

_Terrific._ He sighed. _Another witness._

§

A loud scream echoed throughout the Garden. All the students heard it from their dorms and came running to the library.

A crowed was gathered by the middle of the floor. In the row up front was Quistis, looking down at the corpse of Headmaster Cid. Not shot, but stabbed; three times in the back.

"Make way, coming through." Irvine called, trying to get to see what the hubbub was all about.

He broke free into the front of the line, and almost felt like puking. "Oh, Hyne! A dead body! Get it way! Get it away!"

"What's up with you?" Snapped Quistis. "You've seen dead bodies before."

"Yes, but not Headmaster Cid look-alikes."

"That IS Headmaster Cid."

"Headmaster Cid!" He shouted with disbelief. "Who the hell did this?"

From the back of the crowd, Dina spoke up: "Squall."

The crowd parted as Quistis stepped forward. Dina was left when the crowd had subsided.

Quistis looked at the Dollet red head. "You saw this happen?"

"Yes." She answered reluctantly. "And so did Rick and Nida here." She motioned towards the two standing beside her. "Rick and I came down here to discuss quiz results, and Nida was here for some late night studying."

"And so was I." Someone else spoke up.

The crowd, including Quistis, looked over towards the speaker, who was situated at the right of their numbers. "Hi," he greeted awkwardly. "My names Dobe. I'm your biggest fan Ms. Trepe. Awkward situation to meet in, I know. But I saw Leonhart come in here. He looked like a zombie. When he got close enough to the Headmaster, he took off that pendent of his and stabbed him in the back as if no one was looking. When I saw what was happening, I charged at him with my book and he ran off."

"You didn't try to stop him?" Quistis asked sternly.

"It happened so fast." Explained Dobe. "What was I supposed to do? Cuff him and give him his rights?"

"That would have helped, but I guess you have a point."

Now the Instructors came in. Scrivens forced his way to the front. "Move aside! I'm an Instructor!" Remarkably, he fainted when he saw the corpse.

Repede came forward soon after. "Scrivens, you coot. What made you do that in front of the kids?" He looked disdainedly towards the rest of the students. "What the hell happened here?!"

"Squall croaked the Headmaster." A student spoke from the back when no one else would.

"You're telling me a student did this?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Dammit! I knew that kid would snap. Now listen up!"

Everyone snapped into attention at his authority carrying words.

"I'll offer any student a free lunch in the cafeteria for bringing Squall in alive and well!"

The students muttered in disappointment.

Scrivens came too quickly when he heard this. He looked up at Repede. "That won't do at all. Free hot dogs for anybody who just brings him back alive!"

In a change, the students all cheered, running out of the library on the man hunt while the instructors were left behind to deal with the body.

Quistis stopped suddenly outside the library. Catching a passing Irvine by the sleeve of his coat.

"Hey, girl. What gives?"

"Stop and think Irvine. The Headmaster was the only fatherly figure to a lot of people in this Garden, and Squall was probably one of them."

"So? He probably wasn't. Now let's go! Those free hot dogs are waiting, and this time, there's no Zell for competition!"

"Will you shut your stomach up and listen!" Quistis instructed impatiently. "He wouldn't kill him, not alone stab him in cold blood with four witnesses!"

"So he's careless. Let's go!" He started to run off to continue the manhunt, but Quistis pulled him back again.

"As his only friends, I feel it best we find him first."

He perked up when he heard this. "Now you're talkin'. Let's go." He started to run off yet again, but Quistis was still holding on to him.

"I'm not finished. Scrivens said he wanted Squall alive. He said nothing about him not getting beat within an inch of his life! And I have a good idea where to look for him."

"So let's go already!"

"I'm way ahead of you." Now, Quistis ran off too the manhunt, but was still dragging Irvine by the sleeve.

§


	9. Graveyard

9

Graveyard

Seifer stormed into the room with a bag full of fruit pieces, vegetable slices, and a couple of pieces of old pizza. He threw the bag down on the floor in front of Raijin.

"Help yourself." He smirked.

Raijin picked up a slice of apple from the bag. "These are samples from the super market, ain't they?"

Seifer justified his act easily. "If they wanted me to spend gill, they wouldn't have made free samples." Raijin took the justification easily enough, and began to wolf down the food.

"Hey! I need to eat some of that! And so does Fujin!"

"Don't worry," Raijin mumbled with a mouth full of apples and oranges. "They're making dinner inna couple hours anyway, ya know."

Seifer grimaced. "D'you think I'd eat anything made by old lady Hodges?"

"It's a free meal, ya know."

"If it's a free meal, why the hell did I have to sell my gunblade dammit?"

"Idunno? Because the room ain't free?"

"Don't start with me Raijin!" Snapped Seifer. "It was pure hell to get those samples! Don't make me feel like my task was all in vain!"

"Oh, c'mon, how hard can it be to grab a few samples from the store, ya know?"

"It's that damn alien scare! Now everyone is stocking food and dry goods like they knew the apocalypse was coming!"

"Well, you were the one to find that thing, ya know."

"Yes. But I wasn't the one who went blabbing to the media. Now was I? Stupid Welsh."

"No, but you would have."

"Oh, thanks for the analysis."

"Your welcome."

Seifer could sense, that while his comment was sarcastic, Raijin's gratitude was genuine.

Doug, the man from the room above them, looked down the hole where the bathtub had fallen through. "Hey, you kids! What the hell did you do to my soup tub?!" Like everyone else in the house, Doug spoke New Galbadian.

Seifer looked up at him with disdain. _Oh, you noticed your tub's missing now?_ "What the hell do you mean?" He shouted back. "That thing fell onto our pad fair and square!"

"Listen Almasy!" The guy shouted back. "In Alcaudia, maybe you guys keep whatever piece of property falls into your lap! Not here, ya see!"

_Alcaudia?! There is no such country you rock head!_

Raijin looked at Seifer with the look of wanting to know all over his face. "We came from Alcaudia? I thought we came from Balamb, ya know."

"We did." He told his dull witted associate. "But dumb-ass upstairs doesn't even know that place exists."

"Hey!" Doug shouted. "What did you just call me?!"

"I called you a dumb-ass, you dumb-ass!" He shouted back.

"Why you little…! Didn't your old lady ever tell ya not to talk back to your elders?!"

"I can't remember my old lady! So there!"

"I bet if you could, you could hold a job for longer! Heard you got canned for the second time this week!"

"Heard this is your second month of unemployment!"

Doug apparently looked beaten. Waving him and Raijin off, he left to do something else.

"Dunce." Seifer mumbled when he couldn't see Doug any more. "Now where the hell's Fujin? She would have loved to sling her own mud at Bubble Dome Doug!"

"She's at her new job, ya know." Answered Raijin, digging into the bag, taking out one of the old pizza slices.

The smell that thing emmitted was as bad as it looked. Seifer winced horribly when Raijin stuffed the slice into his mouth.

§

The North Yaulny Hospital had been made visually pleasing on purpose. The main reception area was covered with marble tiles. The back of the reception counter was built of red brick, as well as the corridor behind it that lead to the various patients' 'treatment' centers. Those doors, done specifically to see the jungle plant life outside, had huge glass windows adjacent to each other on the other side.

Fujin knew that she was probably the only employee in the place worth the money she made. If she could have had it any other way, she would be worth more. First thing she happened to find out about the nurses was that they hadn't a clue what manic depression was, and a doctor thought that paranoia was an advanced sore throat. Taken what she knew, Fujin should have applied for medical staff, rather then orderly. What Seifer had said did ring true: people were thrown in there because no one wanted to see them again.

Only new at the job, Fujin had already witnessed that one of the more advanced patients was dead in her cell. She had committed suicide by choking herself. When Fujin had reported the death, no one seamed to care. Oh, how she felt for those poor, insane saps.

Now, at 1600 hours, she was getting simple meals ready for her next round, meals that anyone else would be glad they weren't eating. But, thinking of how she would be going home in a couple of hours to eat some of Ms. Hodges cooking, she would have loved to eat some of that creamed corn and old mashed potatoes.

When she had handed in her resumé, they had put her on the advanced ward rounds right away, what with her militant background. Still, she had to be accompanied by a couple of nurses, since there were some patients that would put up a real good fight.

§

Groggily, Squall opened his eyes to a neon light fixture. Since he was still very drowsy, the simple detail of his surroundings didn't register for first in line. Foremost to him was what an unnatural sleep had done to him, made him weary, nauseous, and highly in tune to his most recent subconscious pictures of crowds of strangers, hooded marauders, and Cloak, seaming to fallow him around a preoccupied street with some unknown agenda on her mind.

"_Damn, you're up quick. Thought you'd be down for a couple more days."_ Snickered the voice in his head.

Squall responded to her remark, his throat was a bit dry. "Wouldn't mind if I did sleep for a couple more days. I feel like hell, and I don't think I'm in any place nicer. How long was I out?"

"_Dunno. Don't care."_

"I'm in that hospital, aren't I?"

"_Maybe, maybe not."_

Lying on his back, Squall slowly turned his stiffened, snapping neck to look around his new room. The walls were padded, and so was the door, all pale cyan in colour. The padded bed he was on was apparently attached to the wall, positioned on the wall left of the door, which was adjacent to the window; reinforced with metal bars. The window, he guessed, was no doubt bulletproof glass behind those bars. There was no other furniture in the room. Swiftly, he was reminded of the cyan room in his dream: with its dirty floor and small window. He did not see any sky out of his window though, just the trunks and vines of the tropical scene. Getting back to the memory of his dream, he remembered quite clearly the haggard nurse that came in, and Cloak fallowing close behind.

In a way, he was glad he was placed in his own cell, no matter how univiting it was. As long as it kept him isolated from those 'people'. Upon being commited, they had dragged him downstairs into some large, empty area with slate green cement walls and a pothole ridden floor. An exposed hearth with numerous fire brand handles was in the corner. That was the point when it was made painfully clear to Squall that those people didn't give a damn about him. Still struggling in vain, he was surrounded by three men who beat him sensless to keep him still. Ripping his clothes off, he was held still as someone else removed a couple of fire brands from the hearth. At first, he had tried his best to hold back his screams when the fire brands were stamped onto his exposed shoulder, but he couldn't fight them for long, and he was sure he had screamed eventually. After the agonizing burn treatment, they had dropped him on the cold ground, seemingly leaveing him there untill he felt a hard, freezing spray of water on his shoulder.

Grabbing him by the shoulders, they had hauled him away, still unclothed and wet. They took him to another room with a bit more furnshings, a room that looked a little bit more like clinic. They weighed him, got some measurments, but there was no blood or urin test. Instead, they dropped the standard patient's shirt, slacks, and robe in front of him, demanding he dress himself. Obediantly, he replied, still too weary after those burns.

The burns still hurt. That hose water they sprayed him with didn' help at all. Reaching to touch his left shoulder, he felt letters etched on his skin:

**LEONHART, SQUALL. BORN: AUGUST 23.  
HIEGHT: 172 CM  
PSYCHIATRIST: DR. KORAKS KARRION**

NORTH YAULNY INSTITUTE

Cloak chose to butt into his thoughts. "'_Twas one of my better roles I believe." She crowed, reffering to the dream Squall had with the overrot nurse._

"Oh, you believe?" Responded Squall sarcastically.

"_Damn right I do! I believe it illustrated my point very well."_

"Like the point that you would eventually drive me into the nut house?"

"_I believe I have illustrated other points as well. But, yeah, that too."_

"And you remember all of that?" He spat those words out matter-of-factly, not recognizing his own voice. He couldn't care less if Cloak remembered the time he was bitten by the class hamster: cobra, when he was ten.

"_I do."_ Answered Cloak. "_I can still recall you suckn' the wet nurse's nipples, and I do remember you getting bit by that hamster."_

"Terrific, you know about the hamster." He raised an eyebrow curiously at the ceiling. "I was weaned by a wet nurse?"

"_Funny story really. You're old lady had cancer, and, well, superstition had it you would get it if you sucked her tits. Beyond that, I know nothing. You happy! I KNOW NOTHING!"_

"Yes, I am happy. Thank you for saying that."

"_Smart ass."_

For a while more, Squall laid on his back, barely moving, his burned shoulder sill a mite bit tender. Just staring at the ceiling, he was, drowning in a feeling of inanity. He could feel his limbs, but there was no will, or strength, for them to move. When he did gain the will to sit up, he was immediately brought back down by severe dizziness.

"Dammit. Why do I feel like I've had the flu for two weeks?"

The question wasn't meant to be answered, but Cloak answered anyway. "_You are far away from the graveyard."_

"Which one? There's a lot of them."

"_The graveyard. Where the corpses rot into jelly, and you derive your gusto from it."_

"Where is this graveyard?"

"_The bottom of the ocean. And since you're on the mainland, you've recovered much more slowly from the insulin shot they gave you. Had you have been closer to the coast, or better yet, over the water, you would have gained consciousness much faster."_ Cloak chuckled. "_Victicious is really guarding a treasure, but you've got a coupon for it. No flat fish can stop you!"_

"Explain."

"_It's all yours boy! ALL FREAKN' YOURS! And I do mean all."_

"And how do I get this treasure?" He spoke cynically.

"_I don't know? Surprise me!"_

Squall stopped his questioning, well aware that he wouldn't get anything else out of the entity. A noticeable side effect did come of the quiet. He couldn't stop thinking of what he had just done, and even more of what he had just given up. No matter how hard he tried to get away from these thoughts, he just couldn't help beating himself up.

_I'm going to be like this till the day I die._ He thought bitterly.

"_What did you say? SPEAK UP!"_

_You can't hear my thoughts can you?_

"_Being difficult aren't we? Well, I see you need stronger discipline!"_ Squall could tell that Cloak could not hear him when he thought to himself. But, if that was the case, how come she had read his mind twice before?

"_I won't take this lying down." Scoffed Cloak. "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT…"_

Squall rolled over onto his side, trying desperately to drown out her screams, like he had drowned out many previous annoying conversations. All efforts to do so failed him. In reaction, he covered his ears, but the screaming just got louder.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP YOU BITCH! I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN?!" He shouted in response.

Walking just outside in the hall was Fujin, wheeling her cart along, fallowed by two male nurses.

She heard Squall shouting.

"_Iþ irgi! Müa nüsðor! Kik ask suvni aði...!_"

One of the nurses looked at the other with a somber face. "I think the new kid's awake."

"NEW KID?" Fujin asked, turning around to look at them. It was almost like they were two teachers talking about a new student. She still spoke with her regular form of speech, but with much less force, just for employment's sake.

"Oh yeah," the other one answered with a slight smile. "we got this kid just this morning. Capped some guy for no apparent reason and almost got eaten by a monster. We stuck him in cell five-eight-three." He pointed with his thumb at the door just to their left. "We gave him a shot of insulin, but I think a SeeD can take more then that."

"SEED?" Fujin still looked flabbergasted.

"Yeah, maybe you know him."

"YOU? KNOW THAT?"

"Of coarse I do, I read you're resume."

"YOU? A DOCTOR?"

"Sure am. They had a shortage of one doctor, and one nurse at the time I was hired. Since I had a degree in psychiatrics, I was hired to fill both positions."

_Oh Hyne help us all. Both a doctor and a nurse._

The nurse that wasn't a part time doctor turned to his comrade. "I think we should do something." He started. The nurse/doctor agreed. Opening the door to the cell, they walked in. The patient did not stop his screaming.

"Okay kiddo," one of the nurses stated, "time to meet Mr. Electric Shock Therapy."

"_Kikri vyrni askidæ!_" I said nothing! The patient bellowed. "_Askidæ; ak drüthnir! Mri yr isríði mür! TJASKRIL! Embrit yr isríthi mür?!_" Nothing is sacred! She won't leave me alone. DAMMIT! WHY WON'T SHE LEAVE ME ALONE?!

"Don't worry," spoke one of the nurses calmly, "we'll get her to leave you alone." Fujin recognized the language spoken.

The patient suddenly rambled with the nurses. "Hey! What are you doing? Let me go!"

Both nurses came out holding onto the patient. Like the rest, the guy was dressed in a light cotton shirt and slacks, but Fujin found it hard not to recognize the brown hair, and the scar across his face.

_Squall? What happened to you? Did Ultimecia drive you crazy?_ Fujin thought. _Not that you weren't crazy to begin with, you just seem worse off now._

Squall noticed Fujin, standing by the serving cart. His eyes were lowered in a stance that flat out yelled he was a fruit basket.

"FUJIN!" He yelled, just as the nurses were dragging him away. "FUJIN! You tell Seifer that when I get out of here, I stick his head on end of spear, and tie it in place with his gut. YOU HEAR ME! I COULD USE REPREIVE!"

The nurse/doctor intervened his threat. "Okay now, easy with the death threats." They then, disappeared around a corner, but Squall was still yelling at them, mainly in Alcauldian. Much of what he said didn't make much sense to his current scenario. But, then again, he was in a mental institute.

When the shouting had died down into the distance, Fujin returned to her cart. _I've gotta tell Seifer about this._

§

Zone sat at the kitchen table, a deck of Triple Triad tarot cards in his hand. He set the deck down and began making a card house. It was going along great until…

"YO! ZONE!" Yelled Zell from behind him. In his surprise, the card house fell instantly. "S'up with you?"

"The same thing that was up with me three minutes ago." Zone started impatiently. "Nothing."

"Nothing's something." Zell justified, stepping into the kitchen. He spied the cards. "You know, that's not how you play Triple Triad."

"I know how to play Triple Triad. I was just making a card house, that's all."

"_Psht!_ Making a card house is easy." He boasted.

Zone speculated his comment. "Make'em often, do ya?"

"Hey! There's nothing to it." He pulled out a chair and sat down. Taking up two cards, he began to stand them up together, but they wouldn't stay no matter how many times he tried. "_Ejha desmo isquarko!_" Stay dammit!

"Don't worry about the staying power." Reassured Zone. "The table grain is good for that." Secretly, Zone knew that Zell couldn't make much of a card house, he was more talk then action.

But, to his surprise, he did. Zell had completed a three-story card house, complete with a little yard.

"See," he cheered. "Nothing to it."

Zone continued to stare at his creation with awe. "Well I'll be damned." A familiar pain, then, chose to rise in his gut. "Ooh, my stomach just acted up again." He wrapped his arms around his abdomen protectively.

Zell looked at him curiously. "You sure that's Ulcers. 'Cuz I remember from a documentary I saw Hyne knows when, that Ulcers eats away the stomach lining, but doesn't cause severe pain. Now heartburn, that causes pain. But you, my Timber friend, are experiencing side effects of a kidney stone. Now if it was a kidney stone…"

"Owww, need to use…nearest toilet."

"Oh, you mean the sink?"

He didn't comment, just ran out of the kitchen, and out the front door to the outhouse.

"YOU KNOW," Zell called out, "THE SINK IS RIGHT HERE!" He turned back to his card house and shrugged. "Fine, use the 'civilized' can."

From below him, he could make out voices, muffled only by distance. Curiously, he left the kitchen to wonder down the hall. At the end of the hall was a door, positioned under the first story staircase. The door was plain and wooden, a crack of age down the middle, and the bottom right corner was completely missing, the voices emanated clearly up from it. A heavy discussion was going underway on the other side. Zell opened the door, descending down the stairs to the basement.

The walls of the basement were covered with dark floral wallpaper, restricting the light to a mere glow on the walls, and lit by a single light bulb, surrounded with a stain glass shade. A small dais was at the foot of the stairs, covered with rotting and tattered linoleum. Below the single stair of the dais, was a dark brown carpet, in relatively good shape for its years, but still showing wear and tear.

In the middle of the room, directly under the light bulb, seated around a large round table were the Forest Owls. A pile of gil was set out in the middle of the table, and sitting on the tattered, moldy old basement easy chair, was Rinoa with Angelo beside her. Most of the other Forest Owls had found a seat to sit on, some were on chairs, and others had stools. Rind had found a box. Those who didn't have a seat were standing.

"Okay," started Rinoa, "out of all the money we received from that china hutch we hocked, and what we saved in that phony account we have…what?"

"Fifteen hundred gil." Answered Red Hawk.

"Fifteen hundred gil!" Shouted Rinoa in disbelief. "Oh, terrific, that'll save Spike's life."

"Well, it would have been better if that account wasn't cancelled." Started a frizzy haired fourteen-year-old by the name of Spytz. "Who the hell started that account anyway?"

"Zone." They all answered at the same time.

"Then who the hell cancelled it?" Asked Andy.

"Zone." They all answered again.

"Speaking of whom," Mordechai wondered. "Where is he?"

"YO FOREST OWLS!" Zell greeted in Galbadian, squeezing in between Rinoa and Watts. "S'up with you guys?"

Rinoa chose to answer him. "We're scrounging up enough cash to pay for Spike's medical bills."

"Good luck?" He asked with a smile.

"We're fifteen hundred gil short."

"So this is about money? Then why don't you sell that glowing purple rock Selphie found? Bet it'd bring in some serious cash-o-la!"

"Tried." Remarked Rinoa with contempt. She pointed to a guy with long brown hair, black eye shadow and coloured nails. "Seth here already took the rock into town to sell it. It's apparently worth butt kiss."

"So, what you are saying is…" Zell paused to think of the meaning. "That thing isn't worth anything."

Rinoa frowned at him. "Yes, that's just what I'm saying."

A door opened and slammed shut from above. Angelo barked as a dog would, and down the stairs came Zone. "What'd I miss?" He asked once he stood on the dais.

"We were just counting gil, sir." Watts answered.

Rinoa whined at the latecomer. "Zone! Where were you?"

"I had to use the outhouse. Very badly."

"I told him he should have used the sink!" Scoffed Zell.

"The sink?" Rinoa started. "What good would a sink do?"

"Well…I've used it before, and it's convenient."

"Dear Hyne!" Brine gagged, "I wouldn't want to use the same bathroom as that guy."

"Hey, HEY! Plenty of people use the same bathroom as I do, Okay!" Brine just winced more, along with several other Owls.

Rinoa intervened the moment again. "Could we deal with this money issue already?"

"Don't worry." Assured Zone, turning to Zell. "Hey, they pay you guys well. Do you think you could give us a hand here?"

"You want me to sell an organ?" The SeeD asked absentmindedly.

"No, I was just wondering if you could lend us some cash."

Zell thought about Zone's proposal. "Well, I don't know. Money isn't really a SeeD issue unless we're the ones getting paid." He thought about it a bit longer. "Damn, what would Squall do?"

"Zell," resumed Zone, "you're the one in charge now, not Squall."

"You're damn right!" Remarked Zell with realization. "I do so have the power! And I say: let there be mooching! So how much do you guys need?"

Rinoa answered him blankly. "Fifteen grand."

"Well then, lets see what I got in the ol' pockets." He put his hands into both his pockets, talking out a ripped balloon, an old movie ticket, a Balambese coupon for fish sticks, a glass eye, a rubber band, and two hundred gil in two coins, each one had a face of a star, the symbol of the holy element.

"How did you get a glass eye sir?" Innocently asked Watts.

Zell answered curtly, "_psht_, I just found it in some glass in the infirmary, and I needed something to play marbles with."

The money was counted. "Two hundred gil." Rinoa responded with irritation. "That's all you have?"

"That's all I have in my pocket. I need on-hand pocket change."

Zone looked at him curiously. "Two star coins is pocket change?"

"It is if you live in Balamb."

"You mean things cost more." Began Mordechai. "I thought that kind of price difference was paved over by the World Constitution of…of…some year?"

"Since when does 'World' include Balamb?" Red Hawk asked with jealousy.

"I don't know. But I find it highly ironic that they would include Timber, and not Balamb."

"If that's all you have in your pocket." Rinoa started, leaning her elbows on the table. "Where's the rest of it?"

"Oh, I'm lousy at holding onto money. So, as leader, I ordered Selphie to hold onto it."

Warning bells signaled in the Sorceress's head. She had learned very fast, that Squall didn't want anybody to look at the money, not alone entrust it with someone else. "Selphie! How good is she with holding onto money?"

"Don't know. But I do know that anyone in existence is better then me."

"So how much gil is she holding onto?"

"Fifty grand."

"FIFTY GRAND!" She yelled in surprise. All the other Forest Owls were surprised too, so murmured their replies to each other. "And she's not going to be back for another couple of days!"


	10. Envri Slir

10

Envri Slir

The perfect opportunity had come, the halls were empty, and students were either in class or in their dorms. Irvine felt it a good time to go snooping. Since Squall was gone, the spy inside him felt the great push to see what was inside his room.

Since the lock was still out of order, the door had simply been barred off with red tape and plywood. There was no problem in getting that barrier down, so Irvine was able to get in.

It still surprised him that the room was clean. He had pictured Squall as more careless with objects. The first thing he felt like doing was going back to his desk to take out whatever drawing he had manifested over the years. In the mainstream of the cafeteria sideshow, they would have made great curiosity interest. Though he was stopped when he saw something tapped to the back of his shelves. It was a simple sign of lined paper that had, in big bold, red lettering, written on it: **DEATH TO TEDDY BEARS.**

"Whoa." Irvine cringed. "This dude has serious issues."

A stilling wind came in the room, as if some other presence was made known just behind him. Irvine stiffened up. _Damn, I'm caught!_ "Hello, who is it?" He asked slowly, not really wanting to know the answer. He turned around slowly when no answer was given, nearly jumping straight through the ceiling once he saw whom it was.

Quistis gave him her greatest look of stern lecture, the kind he had been very good at getting over the last weak or so.

"You just can't help but piss him off. Can you?" By 'him', he knew she was referring to Squall.

"Well, it's like this." He started rather shakily, what with not having any real alibi on hand. "I've never, like, been in here. So, I was, like, um…uh…" For consult, he turned quickly to the sign at the back of the shelves. Ripping it off the single band of tape. He gave it to Quistis.

"Check out what I found."

She read the sheet out loud. "Death to teddy bears? Well, that explains that effigy he burned of Tinkly Winkly the Friendship Bear."

Irvine snorted with hilarity at the name. _Tinkly Winkly. I'd burn an effigy as well, what with a name like that._

Quistis continued to speak, her voice dressed in curiosity. "Why is it I haven't noticed this sign when I was in here before? It couldn't have been recent, I was just in here yesterday and he was hiding under the bed."

"Oh," cooed Irvine. "You've been in here before?" He cocked an eyebrow in amusement.

"If you know what's good for you, you won't get into that."

"Then tell me why you're here, Miss Ultimate Authority."

"Because I knew you'd be here. You couldn't keep you hands off Seifer's belongings, why would you stop at Squall?"

"…Because Squall won't hang me if I mess with his boxers?"

"No, he'd probably boil you in oil." She scolded, putting her hands on her hips crossly. "Why is it you cringed when you had to shoot Matron, but you can't help but piss off the biggest, most terrifying individuals this Garden has to offer?"

Irvine was about to answer that question when he realized something in what she said. "How did you know about the Sorceress-Sniping mission?"

"Rinoa told me."

"So how many people know about that besides you, me, Rinoa, and Squall?"

"About the entire Garden. Once Zell opened his mouth, there wasn't a soul in this place that didn't hear it."

Irvine sighed heavily. "Terrific, I'm a laughing stock of the entire organization."

"Be fortunate that story died down by Thursday. Now, you're just a Galbadian student who can speak Alcauldian."

Irvine sighed again, this time in relief. "Thank God, at least I won't have to worry about getting beat up."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." She took hold of Irvine's hand, and then proceeded to drag him out of the room. "I'm going to show Dr. Kadowaki this sheet. In the meantime, you should stay out of the frying pan. Lest you wake up one morning in the fire."

§

"I'm here to see Squall Leonhart." Seifer spoke as calmly as he could. Inside, he was shaking with anxiety. He couldn't wait to shove reality in his rival's face.

The nurse at the reception desk looked as if she hadn't slept in over forty-eight hours. "Just a second, let me check the patients records."

Seifer gave a silent curse in Alcauldian as the nurse reached under the desk to pull out a large book of records.

Just behind him, Raijin stood, staring blankly at the abstract mural in back of the reception desk. Seifer had insisted he come along, providing witness to the glorious moment.

Beyond the reception desk, just down the hall to the left, several doctors and nurses with patients were moving about to which destination and what. One of the nurses wheeled Squall down the hall towards the recreation room, where he was expected, or at least told, to interact. As was common for patients out of their 'room' he wore a light green robe. He didn't feel up to seeing anyone, he just felt so under the weather. The withdrawal effects of the drugs he could not take were getting up to him. He was feeling cold, jittery, nauseous, ravenous, light-headed, nearly numb in his right arm, with a side of headaches that he was sure was making it hard to hear close sounds. On top of that, Cloak hailed a burden that seamed to put the extra power to gravity, even though the electric shocks he was given seamed to shut her up.

The bright lights of the hallway hurt his eyes. He held up a hand above them for shade. Beyond moving his arm, he had pretty much not moved the entire day. He was just too tired all in all.

Another nurse came up to the one who was pushing his wheel chair. She explained an emergency with another patient, it seamed that the woman was one of the few nurses they trusted with that kind of problem, and they needed her, but the woman wasn't up to leaving Squall unsupervised.

From out of one of the corridors came a younger nurse.

"Excuse me," started the older nurse, "Nora, can you give me a hand here?"

Unintentionally, she left Squall alone, although, he didn't realize she had even spoken.

The nurse known a Nora, looked at the older woman as if she had interrupted something important.

"Sorry about that," apologized the older nurse, "but something has come up. So, could you look after Squall over there for me." She pointed behind her towards the patient, who was still shielding his eyes from the glare of the light.

"Eww," started the younger nurse. "I can't look after him, he's crazy."

"Everyone in this hospital is crazy. That's why it's called a 'mental institute'."

"No kidding." Nora sarcastically remarked.

The older nurse was not amused. "You'll like him, he's cute once you get past the blood shot eyes, the pasty complexion and the bed head."

Nora looked over the other nurse's shoulder to see the patient herself. To see what they were up to _himself_, Squall had turned around, completely deaf to the cries of his body; begging him to reconsider. Nora cringed when she saw his flushed, gaped mouth stare. She turned immediately back to the older nurse.

"No freakn' way I'm looking after him!" She replied with obvious disgust.

While the two nurses were busy arguing the point, they did not notice that Squall had collapsed in front of his wheal chair. He had tried to get away, but his body had finally stopped persuading him, and acted on its own terms by ordering his legs to give out. He didn't like being woken up for breakfast, and he wasn't at all interested in meeting anyone. Like it had been before, his curiosity enjoyed independence, so he decided to go off on his own. Now, he just had to worry about getting somewhere.

He managed to collect all will and strength, crawling towards the edge of the wall. Sitting up against it, his head began to whirl with its sudden elevation.

_Oh God. I think I'm goinna puke. Then, I think I'm goinna puke again._ But, of coarse, he hadn't eaten anything since four hours ago, and that wasn't a lot.

A couple other nurses walked by, but they paid no attention to the ailing patient, nor did he notice them in turn.

Working up the gusto, he managed, although with some difficulty, to get himself to stand up using the wall as a brace. His head responded with a heavy spell of dizziness that nearly toppled him over again, and was making it rather hard to keep the drool from running out the sides of his mouth. Squall managed to walk only by keeping his hands on the peeling blue wall. As the corner leading to the main lobby came around, he found that it wasn't as easy as it looked to get past that corner. He simply ended up collapsing to his knees. With a desperate resort to see what was before him, he lifted his head up, his neck making unhealthy snaps. The images before him were unnaturally sharp. He made out with eagle precision the door that led out of the entire hospital, the small waiting room, the edge of the reception desk, and beside it, Seifer and Raijin.

"How long is it goinna take, ya know?" Complained Raijin.

Seifer snapped at him with impatience. "I told you! I don't know?"

"Geesh, I'm just trying to make conversation ya know." Seifer continued to stare absently at the chairs in the lobby, while Raijin chose to stare at the hall that went into the hospital. He looked with silent shock as he saw Squall hobble down the hall, clothed in the standard cotton slacks and shirt of the patient, as well as a robe that swayed ungracefully behind him as he limped along. He was in no way pretty, nor friendly looking, and the drool did nothing to contradict so.

It was mainly the extra jitters, and the adrenaline that Seifer's presence gave him that got Squall on his feet and walking. The sole desire of bloody murder gave him his destination.

Raijin stuttered at seeing him. "Uh, Seifer…"

"I just don't get it," he interrupted, "how long does it take to find out where the hell a patient is in this god forsaken crap shack?"

"Seifer…" this time he pointed towards the approaching psycho.

In a gesture that meant he did not want to hear anything, Seifer's hand came up to silence him. "I told you Raijin, I don't know what the hell that painting is supposed to be!"

"But Seifer…"

Squall had only managed to get halfway down the hall to the reception area, before he was grabbed by a doctor, and three male nurses. Raijin continued to look on as the four medical employees tried to calm him down.

The receptionist had come back. Relieved that his wait was over, Seifer turned around gratefully from staring at the chairs. Raijin continued to gawk at the brawl down the hall. Thus far, they were now trying to sedate him by syringe.

"I'm sorry," she started, probably not nearly as sympathetic as she sounded. "But that patient has personally requested he not have any visitors."

Seifer gave a witty retort to the nurse. "He's requested no visitors before he was put in this place!"

"He was also advised not to have any visitors by the Headmaster of Balamb Garden, and Dr. Karrion."

"Dr. Karrion?" He started curiously. "Is he that bad?"

From down the hall, Squall had managed to squirm out of the arms of his captors, only to have them catch him as soon as he was loose.

The nurse responded to Seifer's question. "I'm sorry, but we aren't allowed to divulge specific information about a patient without a doctor's consent."

As one of the nurses tried to stab him with the needle, Squall snapped at his ear. When another nurse put his hand over his mouth, he flung his hand at the syringe, knocking it out of the grip of that nurse. While the guy bent to retrieve it, he bit the hand that was holding his mouth; then kicked the kneeling guy in the ribs as hard as he could.

"Well then," continued Seifer. "Is it possible to talk to this Dr. Karrion?"

The doctor grabbed the syringe off the floor, but not before Squall spat on him. The nurse he kicked got up and tackled him, as well as having the other two grab his arms and legs.

"No." The nurse bluntly answered. "Unless you are an immediate family member and/or a student or staff member of Balamb Garden."

The doctor took hold of Squall's restrained arm, ready to give him the injection. In a last resort attempt, Squall started to kick with all decent might he got from the remaining java in his veins. The nurse holding his ankles let go in surprise. Thus, Squall was free to kick at the doctor.

"Would a drop-out count?" Asked Seifer, regretting his choice of words right away.

In a ditch effort to help the other grab his flailing legs, the nurse that was holding his left arm had let go momentarily, only to have Squall grab hold of the wrist of the other nurse holding his other arm. He bit down on his wrist as hard as he could. The doctor, and the nurse who had realized his mistake, scrambled to get the other nurse free of the bite, but Squall had locked his jaws on him good. The third nurse decided to forget his legs, and just grabbed him by the waist.

The receptionist gave Seifer a sarcastic look. "No."

Two other doctors had joined in to help, one of them pressed Squall's ankles firmly on the cold, tile floor, while the other assisted by keeping the patient's head still.

"So there is no way you will let me see the patient in question." Concluded Seifer.

With all his limbs immobile, Squall resorted to spitting. It didn't stop the doctor one bit.

The receptionist was straightforward. "No chance in hell."

Worn out, Squall finally submitted to the three doctors and nurses. When put under, the nurses finally dragged him away, out of Raijin's sight.

Disappointed, Seifer turned towards the door while motioning for Raijin to fallow. "_Raijin fryðna id. Elgra unir grahir'ig rüknari vir sþatfa._" C'mon Raijin. This kobald ain't letting us through. His lackey fallowed obediently.

A sharp crunch emanated from under Seifer's boot. He looked down to see that he had stepped on a cricket.

_That can't be good for the health inspection._

He wiped his boot off on the tile, and then walked out like nothing happened. It was true that he was disappointed. But for him, a person who viewed all of life as a game, it was just a matter of more scheming.

Raijin turned to Seifer as they walked down the stone steps to their scooter. "You missed a good show, ya know."

"Was their something good on that TV in the waiting room?" Asked Seifer, somewhat interested in what he had to say. "If you can call that a waiting room."

§

His 'not too complient' compliency had been reported to Dr. Karrion, as it had since he, Squall, had arrived.

Doctor Koraks Karrion, a viciously apt name, was the psychiatrist he was given. No word, no lecture, Squall didn't even know who recommended that guy. Silently, he would think to himself that if Quistis recommended him, Hell would look much nicer compared to the punishment he would deal to her.

He was a taller man, somewhat Seifer's hight over the six foot area, with very dark, wavey hair, possibly black. He spoke with a mix of Galbadian and Dollet accents, accentuating his origin as Dollet, and was deaf in one ear. He walked with an unusual gait, reminding Squall of a wooden chicken. The most stricking feature about him, though, were his eyes. Dark, colour absorbing irises that were neither brown, nor green. But, as he could see them in glaring, a very dark grey like wet clay. So dead, they did look, seeming to neither contract, nor expand like all other irises. The eyes never really seamed to move themselves, as if they were fused to the sockets. Never did Squall see him blink once.

One of the nurses, known as Dodds, woke Squall up by splashing cold water on him. Awaking with a start, cursing at how cold the water was, Squall saw that they had taken him to the kitchen, and Dr. Karrion was by the stove, a lidded pot sat in front, possibly on one of the burner patches.

Dr. Raven. That was the name the patients all called him. Squall had learned of the information from one of the patients being hauled away by a female nurse.

"Hey, your Dr. Raven's sorry client." He was pulled away by the arm down a corridor, screaming that he 'didn't want to be carved up'. He heard that nickname used again by an autistic patient; whom had pointed directly at him. That patient had gotten beaned with a brick by one of the staff. Several others have spoken of it before Squall had started using it himself.

"I hear you caused quite a bit of trouble today Squall." Started Raven kindly enough.

Squall gave him a nasty glare as one of the male nurses grabed him by the waist. "Fuck you Raven!" Snarled he. Dodds took both wrists in only one of his hands.

"Name calling won't help." Continued to drone Raven. "Now. Why did you all of a sudden lash out at all dose people, _hmmm_? Did Cloak tell you to do it?" Donning an oven mit, he took off the lid on the pot. Wild steam pooled out to reveal a bubbling cauldron of water. Dodds and the other nurse brought Squall closer to where he could feel the heat the applience was giving off. He started to kick, but Raven grabbed his ankles, tying them together with a string of rawhyde, then tied them to the leg of the nurse that held him fast.

"I don't tink I need to explain how dis treatment works." Raven droned again. "It is not right to attack people in autority. Didn't your parents tell you dat?"

"Keep my cold, dead parents out of this you mother fucker!" He hissed. His arrogence was countered by his hands getting dunked in the boiling pot. Squall couldn't help but scream at the freezing action of the boiling water. His hands were lifted out as he was still panting from the stress and scalding pain afflicted his hands. They looked like choice cuts of pork with fingernails when extracted. Dodds had been carefull not to submerge his own hands. Yet still, he had been close, and the water was boiling fierce.

"Curses are strickly prohibited during sessions Squall. If you have anyting to say, try using non-flammitory comments. Now, what is de appropriate ting to do wit your elders and dose wit higher autority?"

_"Deli meat gloating."_ Cackled Cloak.

Squall tried to ignore her, concentrating on Dr. Raven's question. "What kind of question is that?"

With a nod from the doctor, Dodds dunked Squall's broiled hands into the pot again. With skin sill raw and stressed, the ensuing pain was much worse, his scream shook his first. But that time, his hands were held under a slight bit longer then the first before they were pulled up again. Though Raven's eyes did not move once, Squall could have sworn he saw his lips in a smirk.

His head lolled as his body and mind tried to cope with the pain. "That's not what a meant." Corrected Squall, his voice shakey from the waning stress. "What I meant was..."

"Dat every one is de same to you?"

"No! That's not...!" His hands were dunked in again, and he expressed his pain quite audibly.

"What's not it? When I ask you a question, it is always best to be direct. Uncomplete sentences aren't good for communicaton."

_Fuckn' hell?! Maybe I would give you a damn full sentence if you didn't treat my hands like broccoli heads!_ "I don't think a quack like you is in any possition to **_AAAHHGGG!_**" His hands were put in again.

"I'm also counting 'quack' as an inflammitory remark. Now Squall, how does it make you feel to answer to someone else?"

"I..." _How do I answer a question that sounds so rhitorical?_ "I don't know?" He shook with his own self doubt, to be replaced by the shaking of his own pained screams as his hands were boiled again. That time, they were submerged for a good three seconds.

"Try harder. Tink of an answer. Is Cloak de one who is telling you to lash out, or is dat your own perspective?"

Squall blurted out his next answer, pained spasms still hadn't left him. "Cloak told me to kill Headmaster Cid."

"I see. So tell me, have you been having problems wit autority your entire life on one scale or de oder, or have you been relitively well behaved untill Cloak came?"

"I never killed a single person outside of duty!" Quite close to tears, he was hoping against hope that the answer he gave wouldn't be enough to put his hands in the pot again.

"And by duty, does dat mean any militant action you were trust into?"

Bracing himself, he answered with a whine. "Yes." _Damn! I'm tired. Too tired for this._

After a moment of pondering, Dr. Raven turned to look at him with plastic, unblinking eyes. "So, you created Cloak as a means to 'justify', your actions?"

_What the hell does that mean?!_ "What do you think I am?! A lethargic idiot! _Valgarð!_" Quack!

His hands were dipped in the pot again. That time, they were held under while Dr. Raven spoke. "No, I do not tink your an idiot." Regardless of Squall's screaming, he continued to talk. "I tink you are an intelligent young man. But I would appreciate it if you would be so kind as speak a language we bot know." In the pot, his hands started to darken eerily, not noticed by anyone but Squall, who could readily assume that the boiling water was eating away at his arteries, the black synthetic blood was ready to spill out at the first chance it had.

"De hands aren't comming out untill you tell me if I am correct, or not." He gave his patient a more stern look then previous, hinting that his hands would indeed stay in the boiling water.

"_Meir._" No. He stuttered between stressed convulses. "_Gne nelle'sess fún etnê Cloak clemet'arle._" I don't know how Cloak came to be. The decision to use Dollet was, on his part, a quick and last restort to push the envelope, but hoped that his 'shrink' would order his hands out of the water.

His hands were lifted from the pot as hoped, but the reason was obscured to him. Calming down from his pained cacaphony, he noticed how the arteries on his hand were highly visable, and nearly black.

"_Dan, essé laur fún Cloak clemet'arle gúeé?_" So, would you know how Cloak came to be? His obvious switch of language at the hint of Squall did nothing to waver whatever agenda his 'session' was anyway.

_You bastard!_ "_Gne vaive laur búneil_!" I just told you! He shouted, wriggling against the nurse that held him. "_Gne nelle'sess fún etnê Cloak clemet'arle!_" Unconciously, he cursed at him in his native Alcauldian. "_Klavna gríd snod! Vjasdin od arr Tor!_" Fucking Short Note! Rot in Hell!"

Though he knew not what he said, Dr. Raven gave a chopping motion to the holding nurse, and Squall was flung against the high cupbourds. He fell to the floor, tentively rubbing the back of his head where he hit the wood, his own back turned to the rest of the present. The force he was thrown with was not enough to knock him out, but enough to give the cupboards enough of a jolt that some of the pots stored in them fell out, clattering to the floor, and even on himself. Eyes sill unblinking, Dr. Raven took the handle of the pot, throwing its scalding contents at Squall.

The pain seared his back, the thin fabric of his shirt a petty sheild against the boiling liquid. He screamed a final time as he felt the ironic scald freeze into his spine with a nasty bite that only Griever had given.

Both his shoulders were grabbed by the two present nurses. As the nurses dragged him out of the kitchen, Dr. Raven spoke one last time to him: "I'll end dis session now. I'll give you more time to tink about your answers." He snapped back to Galbadian, but his tone was the same, and it sounded like he just reprimanded Squall for misconduct.

§

A nine-year-old junior classman sat patiently on a chair in the infirmary while Dr. Kadowaki tried to get a carrot out of his nose with pliers.

The vegetable gave way as the doctor pulled it out, covered in snot.

"There we go." Started Dr. K. "A nasty bugger it was, aye yah. Now think carefully before you put something else in your nose Slake, or you'll end up like Jerrik. Isn't that right Jerrik?" She looked over her shoulder to an older candidate who was waiting to get the pickle he shoved up his nose three years ago checked again.

"Da'z righ' doc." Answered Jerrik, his voice highly nazal-ized due to the pickle.

Slake gave a slight wince. "Okay Dr. Kadowaki." He got off the chair meaning every word he said, and then walked out of the door.

No sooner had Slake left, then Quistis and Irvine came in. She was still holding onto Irvine's wrist, and the threatening sign.

The doctor looked up with surprise. "Already? I be thinking that Irvine would have a better chance now that Squall is on hiatus."

"Hardly." Quistis croaked. "I caught him rummaging through his stuff, and I found this." She shoved the sign in the doctor's face just as Irvine had done to her.

"Excuse me?" Irvine started with annoyance. "Who found the sign?"

Dr. Kadowaki took the sign and read it quietly. "What are you getting at Quistis?" She asked, lowering the sheet to look at her. "This sign could have just as easily been put up after Squall was taken away."

"Not likely!" She defended. "I had to grade his essays for a year, and I can defiantly tell you this is his handwriting! Plus, he spelled 'death' wrong!"

"Don't yell! I believe you. As far as I know, he has the worst handwriting in Garden, and this fits the bill. Also, at the same time, it makes sense of why he would burn that effigy of Tinkly Winkly."

Irvine gave his two cents to the conversation. "Damn! Is this place, like, a fish bowl or what?"

"Exgooz me." Quipped a forgotten Jerrik. "Bud I tough' I wuz negzd?!"

Quistis gave him an angry look. "Oh, go snort an onion ring."

"Ya'know," started Irvine with a vague hint of nostalgia. "This kind of reminds me of this one kid in Galbadia Garden a few years back. His name was Tergo, and was a bit of a pansy."

Quistis became a bit impatient. "Get to the point."

"He was a teacher's pet, but not at all popular. Then one day he almost killed another student with a razor, and claimed he was only doing what his pet frog told him to do."

"You sure it wasn't a big fish story?"

Irvine let out a sarcastic laugh. "You don't attempt murder and blame it on an amphibian. That's, like, crazy talk. And that's pretty much what we thought it was…crazy talk. So we dumped him in the same hospital we dumped Squall in and never saw him again."

"I think I know where you're getting at." Stated Quistis, "only this time there was a murder and no animals were blamed. So, in a way, what you said makes no sense."

"Not really. July said he was screaming about how it was all, like, 'Cloak's' fault n' stuff."

"When did she hear that?"

"When they took him to the hospital. He did all the classic moves. Y'know, like they do on the TV, kick and scream and that kind of stuff. He was, like, spilling his guts out to these people!" His smile started to get wider with excitement. "I found it, like, ironic that he wouldn't open his mouth when in front of several armed soldiers, or possibly, the cops, but July said he just started to scream testimony as if the Devil Himself was taking him to Hell." His ecstatic smile eased a bit as he came to sardonic realization. "So I guess this place is a fish bowl."

"And I'm guessing that the loss of Zell hasn't helped shut mouths either." Added Quistis.

"Can I zay zomin' 'ere?!" Jerrik shouted, anxious to get noticed.

"Well, wadd've we got here?" Irvine began with courtesy. "A cucumber up the nose?"

"Piggle." The candidate answered.

"Well then! Let me show you how we get rid of those things in Galbadia!" Irvine raised his hand and hit the back of Jerrik's head with considerable force. The pickle flew out with no damage done.

"S'bout time." Observed Dr, Kadowaki. "I was close to surgically removing that thing several times."

"Pickles are easy." Irvine concluded. "Being, like, slimy, they slide easy. So you just give them a bit of a push. Now peanuts are another matter altogether…"

§

So, maybe he had been quite foolish to resist. It wasn't as if Squall wanted their business. On the bright side, they had put him back in his cell. Now he felt as if he could just sleep all day, unless they came down to give him more electric shocks. He could have sworn that the volts they used were as bad, if not, worse then the volts they had used on him in the D-District. He would have loved to be there instead of that hospital; at least they didn't care if he died. Thinking of which, he wondered if the hospital cared if he lived.

Putting a hand in front of his face, he looked sorrowfully at the whithered, half boiled appendage. Still sensitive, the skin was, and rather floppy, Squall was very afraid that if he gave a simple tug to the skin, it would drop off the bone. He took great care in placing his hands because of that thought. Tenderly, he would lay them on the mattress as he, too, did so. The skin would sting for a few seconds at the foreign contact, causing him to wince every so slightly as he let them down.

It didn't matter as much as it should have. Pressing questions gave way to poor impressions of his immediate surroundings, and he felt so much like biting something.

Even though his sight had been drastically sharpened from a withdrawal effect, his light-headedness did no good for recognizing simple objects. A movement started in front of Squall's face, and he was very tempted to bite. Swiftly and deftly, he bit into the object, noting how his headache seamed to ease the harder he bit down.

Something warm and a bit bitter flowed past his teeth. He bit harder, as the warmth was soothing to him.

Too engrossed in his present endeavour, he did not see, nor hear the door to his cell open, letting in five nurses: two female and three male. The male nurses grabbed hold of Squall while the women looked over what he had done. One of them held up his right hand. It was bleeding black synthetic blood, where he had bitten it.

Not one member of the hospital board knew that he was living mostly off of synthetic blood. They didn't even know such concoction existed. It was apparent to them that they would have to tell Dr. Karrion about it. But first, they would have to tie Squall down.

As was standard, every bed in the hospital had nylon straps. Without taking another look at the bite wound, they tied his wrists to the bed. Squall continued to struggle in blind surprise, but calmed down as soon as the nurses left. He noticed clearly that he could not move his hands very far due to the restraints. Not that it mattered much, he was still drowsy and highly nauseous, not the best way to remain awake. He fell asleep instantly.

Maybe it was the sudden serenity, maybe it was from his recent, intense lapse of reason, but Cloak had finally gained her foothold again. She wanted to talk to her host, and she loved to do so when he was asleep. The subconscious rendering of his and her words were jumbled and highly vague. It confused Squall, and she loved to do just that to him. Whether he wanted it or not, his life of isolation, social ineptitude, and broken, naïve visions of life had made him a scheming, intolerable liar, everything that Cloak was. One thing she wanted was for Squall to realize the same.

First to be seen, Squall was lying on his back in the middle of a marble dome, supported by carved marble pillars. The sky outside was that of noontime, full of wispy clouds. A face appeared above his own, looking down with a small smile. The face was himself.

His projected self muttered something audible, but undecipherable, though it was clear what was said meant 'wake up'. As soon as the projection had ducked out of his sight, the clouds started to move like water. The sun fallowed, slipping into afternoon, evening, dusk, night, dawn, morning, and then noon again. The cycle continued another four times before it stopped to it's regular pace, back at noon.

Squall got up. Something seamed off with how he arose. Looking out from the veranda, he looked longingly at a wild garden surrounded by large, rocky hills. In the middle of the tangle of ferns, reeds, and saplings was a pond. Clear, clean, and overgrown with weeds.

It was too bad that something was holding him back, or he would have gone straight to the pond to see what fish lived in there.

A soft hissing issued from his three throats, as well as six thin, long tongues that squirmed out of his mouth. He raised his hands to look at his thin black fingers, each one tipped with a claw like a carving knife. He had become Cloak, and he loved it.

The stoic barricade that kept him away from the garden collapsed in its unseen dust, he moved away from the veranda with overindulged confidence. Stuttering a scratchy laugh, he sleuthed over the dense green overgrowth, his larynx driving through the plant life like a field mouse with antennae. The water before him, though clean and still, disgusted him. Extending two of his tongues, he lapped the water gingerly, then spat it out.

Ferociously, he screeched, thinking of how he was stupid enough to touch such an alien substance. In his sudden spite, Squall raised Cloak's hand, clawing the water mercilessly as if it would show pain.

Besides the plant life, there was nothing else alive below the surface. He looked outwards with Cloak's hallow eyes, his vision the same as it had always been. Towards the back of the pond, the weeds had grown high and thick. No sooner had he looked at these overgrown weeds, then he was among them, but not as Cloak, he was back to his former shape, and he hated it.

He treaded the water silently as he prayed he would not be seen among the weeds. At the shore of the pond, Cloak wavered her dark coat like she was shaking something off. Her larynx dipped itself in the water. She began to sing:

Alcualdian  
_Envri slir gulþring starté nord;_  
All blind except the deaf wood board;  
_Rax kirsvin noldra hònté._  
Stuffed within a corner.  
_Bròtti nisnir vjasdin od na throt,_  
Covered in rot and cobwebs,  
_Ungar südé lakir volé._  
'Till some brat singes them off.

_Fjor inkraþ ak snæd fra kroll jalli;_  
Now time is dead and so is now;  
_Il engrig mirla lesdonsva._  
And the past is weak with regret.  
_Skrat iltar ak rir gonsri tnaþkri,_  
What place is left to escape too,  
_Hakla kòrfir òla ykra?_  
That doesn't hunger for heads?

_Marng hæla müra snevrakir;_  
Far from your home;  
_Næmà vetji an grovin._  
Naked and left to die.  
_Imüra dasvri ak mor griþimanir,_  
Your spine as soft as cheese,  
_Imüra ydrin lone kraspin._  
Your heart moulding from within.

_Rik grarr skimor, aksadri unka ygga,_  
I'll be there for you, stationed at the bellows,  
_Dridati müra finnex._  
Stoking your fire.  
_Darn helexsénæ bijen nira,_  
If anyone gets too you,  
_Rik taska undirskid._  
I'll give you their wrists.

She arched her head closer to the water, stepping completely into the pond. The flowing cloak of her body did not float like ordinary fabric, but sank along with her larynx and arms. Only her head remained above the water as she dog-paddled her way forward. Her head turned, and she was looking directly at Squall. He could see right into the glowing ember funnels of her eyes as she slowly swam towards him, her face aimed of a predator about to catch its meal.

The weeds rattled needlessly as he began to swim away as fast as he could. Cloak not only heard the weeds moving, but also saw them sway, she called out to him.

"APPALLING PACE!"

The shout rattled through his back and rippled the water he wasn't treading. He had never been a good swimmer, and he had never deemed to want to be one, there was no reason why he should have been a better swimmer in his dreams. His pace through the water was slow and sloppy.

Something bit into his shoulder, and he was pulled down. He called out, hoping someone would come. Anyone would do. But he was already under the water. Cloak had caught him.

§

He did not realize how long he had been awake. He didn't even remember when he started to realize his surroundings. When he did get that chance, he noticed right away that he wasn't in his cell. He was in a lower level recovery ward from the looks of it. He had been brought down, probably still asleep, and tied to a gurney.

His head was slightly elevated, so if he was able to see more of what was around him, he could. Though, it was hard to keep his eyes open. It sort of felt like he had just come out of a drugged sleep, as if he had just gone through surgery.

_Please don't let it be a lobotomy…_

"_Heeeello Appalling Pace!"_ He heard Cloak greet.

_I didn't just get a lobotomy, did I?_

"_If you did, you wouldn't be hearing me. Now would you?"_

_Would I?_

"_Hey! I'm asking you!"_

Well, that answered that. Squall tried his hardest to get his eyes open long enough to see what was happening. He was covered to the shoulders with a wool blanket. That much he saw and felt. He strained to see beyond. There were other beds, many of them empty. Only one other was occupied, and he couldn't tell if the patient was a man or woman.

Someone stepped up beside him and took hold of his wrist, just as Squall felt a monstrous headache come on.

_Damnitt. Gotta bite something. Gotta bite something…_

He opened his mouth and started snapping at random, hoping that something would just come to him. As luck would have it, he bit into something with a cling and the feel of metal and cork on his teeth.

"_You know,"_ Cloak began, "_you're biting a metal ruler."_

_Not now!_ Squall thought sternly. _Must keep mind on…what did you say I bit into?_

The nurse waited a few seconds beside Squall to make sure he had the ruler firmly in his mouth, then left. She had heard the story that he had a vicious bite, and had brought down the firmest piece of metal she could find just in case he had the urge to snap at something. It was this development that led Dr. Karrion to order him to be tied down from there on in. The news about his black blood was a more disturbing issue. They were there to treat the ailments of the mind, but discoloured blood fell under a physical ailment.

They had the boy brought down while he was asleep, tied him down to a gurney, and took one hefty blood sample. He had been drugged with standard anaesthetic to be sure he didn't wake up and start nipping at them. The blood was tested, and, sure enough, they found no signs of any cell activity. At that point, he was labelled a mutation, and the paper work to have him shipped to Galbadian Intelligence for further testing had begun. The nurse had merely come down to make sure that Squall did not die on them.

In the other occupied bed, the patient looked on with silent curiosity. The nurse noticed him staring at them.

"Tergo," She began sternly, "there is nothing here you have to see."

Tergo didn't like being snapped at like that, but he looked away from them anyway, hoping he wouldn't get lectured again.


	11. Genesis of Strychnine

11

Genesis of Strychnine

Unlike what she had said earlier at Garden, Selphie did not go all the way to Yaulny by chocobo. Sometime near the end of the first day, she felt sorry for Sly and rented a car at the next town. Being close enough to the Galbadian boarder, she was lucky that there was someone there who could speak Galbadian.

She was also pleased to find a radio station that spoke in a language she could understand, not that she could keep up with the fast paced lyrics. Sly had been stuffed in the back seat of the car, and was passing the time by pecking at the seats.

Selphie drove the car like a mad woman, nearly hitting two animals, a monster, actually hitting a monster, and narrowly missing a human pedestrian. Though, her driving would have been better if she wasn't too concentrated on the song on the radio, and was watching the road. She ended up driving right off the road and into a bramble of yellow snake horns.

The soft thorns from the plant weren't enough to puncture the tough, summer thawed rubber tires, but they did manage to stick themselves to the fender of the sickly green car. Miraculously, she had gotten onto the road again as she was wildly turning the steering wheel to her off-key singing. It was pure dumb luck.

Traffic had been efficiently light, but grew heavier as she drove onto the Yaulny Canyon Bridge. The canyon was a popular tourist attraction, and commercial sites were busy on both sides of the bridge. However, the traffic wasn't bad enough that she had to break several times because of a jam, but she did cause minor accidents as other drivers stared at her, wondering why there was a chocobo sticking its head out the back seat window. Sly gave all the cars that passed by a hardy '_Wark! Wark_'.

Selphie didn't hear the desperate squealing of tires. The map in front of her was taking up too much of her thinking.

"Let's see." She spoke to herself, tracing the route she had taken with her finger while keeping her feet on the steering wheal. "I've traveled five hours from the outskirts of Roshfall, I am now somewhere over Yaulny Canyon in the Yaulny Canyon territory, so that gives me…"

Scrivens had given her the map, and had marked the North Yaulny Hospital with a standard X. He had also given her the best route, the same one that was taken by July, Cameron, and Nida. On the map, it showed that the hospital was smack dab in the middle of the jungle. Anyone desperate, and stupid enough to escape from that place would need a miracle to see the plains of either Timber or Galbadia.

Sly, who had grown impatient, started to nuzzle Selphie's shoulder, as if asking when he could get out. Giggling, she shoved his beak away. Sly kept up a few more times, but decided against it when he realized Selphie wouldn't give in.

He gave a chirping whine, Selphie looked solemnly to see what was the matter.

She gave the chocobo a gentle pat on the head. "Don't worry boy, you'll get out soon. Just as soon as I can find that hospital." She grabbed the burlap bag she kept on the passengers seat, putting a hand in; she took out a hand full of greens. "I bet your hungry?" She asked the bird. Sly chirped excitedly when he saw the greens in her hand. She gave them to him, and he snatched the greens with his beak, crunched them and swallowed them. The chocobo gave a '_Wark! Wark_!' of his approval, but he still wanted to know when he would get out to stretch his legs.

While Selphie was intent on giving Sly those greens, she did not notice how she swerved from lane to lane several times, causing a major riot with the other drivers.

§

Seifer sat on the dingy old couch in his loft, thinking.

Fujin had come home last night and asked how it had gone with him and Squall. He told her plainly that they had refused him entry. He was very near ready to drop the subject and just feel good knowing that Leonhart would rot in the institute, until Fujin brought up a brainstorming subject.

"BIT HIS HAND!"

"How?" Asked Raijin.

"JUST BIT IT. BLED BADLY!"

"How badly?"

Fujin ignored that question, since 'badly' meant 'badly'. She didn't stop, though. "BLED BLACK BLOOD!"

"Black blood." Seifer scowled. "How much of that gossip do you believe?"

"NO LIE! TRANSFERRING!"

"Transferring!" Raijin repeated. "Whoah! I guess they wouldn't want to let him get away if they think it's that bad, ya know."

Seifer gave the big guy a sarcastic sneer. "No Raijin, they probably wouldn't want someone with black blood running free in the jungle…" He stopped. The first click in his head sounded. "Fujin! Did you perchance hear where he's going?"

"RUMORS! BIGGEST ONE, THE G.B.N.!"

The G.B.N. was the Galbadian Federal Intelligence. A second click.

Stooping over in thought, Seifer began to scheme. _Let's see. The G.B.N. That's a big rumor. The staff is apparently scared. Raijin has a point, they don't want Leonhart loose. Why do I care? Let's analyze. If Leonhart were to go missing, they would want him back. They would pay to get him back. That's it! But do I want to sacrifice my pride for profit. Hell yeah. Seifer, you devious bastard you!_ "Listen up and listen good!" He announced to his posse. "I've just got a plan to wipe out our financial problems for a couple months… hopefully a year."

"SPEAK!" Demanded Fujin.

"Okay, but first. Is there anyone who could be eavesdropping? Nah, screw that! We're goinna kidnap Squall 'The Freak of Nature' Leonhart!"

Expectedly, the other two were astonished that Seifer would do such a thing.

Raijin spoke up first. "Well, why?"

"Because, you genius! What if he did escape. They're goinna want him back. And in that jungle, they won't find him by themselves, they're goinna need help."

"So…we help them?" Asked Raijin absentmindedly.

"Better. The reason why we kidnap Psycho Squall is because, when they demand a reward for his capture, we bring him in, unharmed, and we collect."

"But what if someone else finds him before us, ya know?"

"MORON!" Fujin gave him a swift kick in the shin for his stupidity.

Seifer continued. "They won't find him, because we will have him! You lunk head! I take back what I said about you being a genius!"

Still nursing his maimed shin, Raijin looked towards him with a vacant stare. "When was I a genius?"

"In a distant fairy tale."

"Cool, I love fairy tales, ya know."

"So do I Raijin." Seifer sighed, thinking about how good it would be if he had a bit more brains. "So do I."

Now, he sat alone, thinking about how he would go about his grand kidnapping campaign. In other words, waiting for that third click.

§

Skid marks were etched onto the damp gravel as Selphie pulled into the hospital parking lot. It wasn't a very big lot, only big enough for a dozen vehicles. The SeeD got out of her car, the ball and letter in hand, also remembering to keep the windows open for Sly. The chocobo poked his head out of the window, making soft warking sounds. Selphie reassured the chocobo she was coming back, then stroked his head.

She left the bird with a smile. Ambling over the gravel lot, looking around her. She had been in the jungle before. Also, hidden behind all that thick foliage were predators, quicksand, parasites, and also monsters. Some of the larger ones she could hear, roaring and hissing in the distance along with a chorus of birds' chirps and mammalian hoots. The building in front of her was of large stone brick, no older then fifteen years, but the humidity and severe weathering of the rain forest made it look twice its age.

Ascending the steps, she could hear Sly's warks from the parking lot. Regardless, she continued to the white double doors. Pushing the huge doors open, she came into a room with yellow tiling, hanging glass lanterns on the ceiling, white walls, and a great big window at least ten feet tall to her left. The wall behind the reception desk wasn't white, but simple red brick, beside it were the sterile halls that led into the actual hospital.

Selphie looked towards the few chairs put to the side of the reception for a waiting area. A couple of people were there, looking at the tiny portable TV set on a small birch coffee table. Another window was behind that waiting room, of the exact height and width as the one it was adjacent to. It was too bad that the side of the brick hospital could still be seen, or the view of the tropical brush would have been perfect.

A younger man, less experienced, and less mean, replaced the stingy nurse that was at the reception desk when Seifer was there. Even if it would have been that old nurse, Selphie trotted forward to the desk, trying to keep a cheery face in the dismal atmosphere.

"Hello. I'm looking for a Squall Lennon…Leo…Lin…how many patients by the name of 'Squall' do you have here?" Selphie asked the receptionist in Classical Galbadian.

The receptionist gave an inane look at her for a second before he got out a large list of patients. He scrolled through the 'S's quickly.

"We have only one." He answered, but spoke in New Galbadian. Selphie wasn't surprised of the use of language, as they were pretty close to the border with Monterosa.

"Okay, then I'm here to see the only Squall in this hospital."

"I'm sorry miss," he started, "but I've been told that that patient isn't allowed any visitors."

"Are you sure?" She gave him a whiney look, quit natural for her to give, but the receptionist took it as a flirt, not that he minded. He was also taken in by her Nywll accent.

He decided to stick to his job. "Yes, I am very sure. A name like 'Squall' is very unique. When you are told that a certain patient with a unique name is to not have any visitors, it's very hard to forget that very unique name."

Selphie took a second to work out what the receptionist had said to her. "Oh, well, can I still deliver somethin'?" She showed him the ball and letter she carried under her arm. The young receptionist became stuck between two decisions that seemed to smear into each other: let the girl in so she can deliver her gift herself, or turn her down and give the patient the gift himself. Thinking it over a bit, being rather new at the job, he figured Selphie was probably Squall's sister. True, she looked nothing like him, but that didn't mean much, not all siblings needed a resemblance. She couldn't have been a friend, because, in his short period of experience, he learned that family put the patients in the hospital, and the friends knew nothing.

"Tell you what," he told her quite friendly like, "go wait over there in the waiting room and I'll bring him out."

Selphie's face lit up with the brilliance of a supernova. "Really?"

The receptionist nodded that he would. Joyfully, she left to go sit in one of the seats while he went to get another nurse to bring him Squall.

The chairs in the corner were of two kinds: those that were simply made of spruce planks and painted black, there weren't many of those. The second kind, were all fitted with red padding, and were worn on some of them. Selphie took one of the padded ones. The top left corner of the backrest was a bit ripped. The two visitors that were there looked up to see who had come, then, having their curiosity sated, they looked away again. The TV on the coffee table was stuck on a Timber game show, but it wasn't worth watching, the horrible reception had eaten away the colour and drowned out most of the sound with all its frequency fuzz.

She waited for an hour, all the while, not loosing her oblivious smile. One of the visitors, an older man, looked at her several times as if to say: 'why the hell are you so happy?' The receptionist returned, pushing Squall in a wheel chair. He was outfitted with a robe that had been tied around at the waist. His wrists and ankles were tied down to the chair. Selphie noticed his head was bowed, as if he were asleep.

With her usual, lively bound, she approached him, noticing right away that he really was asleep. His hair hung limp, and his hands and feet were of more white then what were considered healthy, with nails that had grown a bit. Most other patients got their nails clipped, but since he was so new, the staff wasn't taking him as serious. She didn't know why his hands looked so gnarled, so thin and wasted, or why his left hand was bound up in guaze.

The receptionist nurse let go of the handles on the chair. "He's yours for an hour."

Selphie shot her head up towards him, looking very surprised. "An hour?"

"Yes, the nurse who usually looks after him had just chosen this time to take her break. So, you have him for an hour. You can take him to the recreation room just down the hall. I can take you there. Just keep in mind, he bites."

"Just a second." Selphie remarked, tilting Squall's chin up so she could see his face. His complexion had gone pallor and emaciated, his lips were thinner then she remembered, and his eyelids held a deep shade of purple, but she still recognized the scar between his eyes.

Selphie let his head drop limply back. "Yeah, that's him."

She took hold of the handles of the chair and fallowed the nurse down the hall. He led them to a large, quarter circle room at least twelve feet high. The wall with the door was a simple white, but the straight wall beside it was a red brick, with several bookshelves, a few potted plants, and chairs. Some patients with their nurses were there. The rounded part of the wall was one giant window, paned with metal triangles. The jungle view outside was even better then at the lobby. The bark of red palm and sequoia was clearly seen, hanging their lively greenery above them. Thick brush and ferns that completely covered the ground surrounded each tree. Selphie recognized the many wild, tropical flowers that grew all over the brambles: Blue rose, golden Bitter Sweets, pink and red Skink Wings, giant Endwon petals, several tropical species of mistletoe, and violet Spindle Weels. The afternoon sun that shone down gave the outside a beautiful green glow. The floor of the room was of the same red brick, but they were not rectangular like on the walls, they were hexagonal. Some tables were set up by the window wall, one trio of patients, flanked by a doctor, were playing a game of Three Pronged Checkers. Another TV was in a corner; it wasn't on, but was bigger, and looked all-around better then the one in the waiting room.

Selphie wheeled the sleeping Squall over towards a couch by the bookshelves. Sitting down on the brown cushions, she undid the straps at his wrists, then, she lifted his head up again.

"Wakey, wakey, Squall." She called gently, slapping him softly on the cheek. He awoke, groggily and moaning. He blinked several times, getting his focus back to ultra sharp again. He saw Selphie sitting in front of him, and she saw how red the whites of his eyes had become

She gave him a toothy smile as her way of saying 'good morning', or, 'good afternoon'.

"Oh God." croaked Squall. "What hell do I thank for this?"

"You silly goose," started Selphie happily, "you don't thank hell, 'tis the bad place."

_No! Really?_ He thought sarcastically.

"I'm here to cheer you up." She added.

"_That's bad news, ya hear!"_ Yelled Cloak. "_She'll damn well yak your ears off. Why is it those with the smallest brains have the biggest mouths?"_

He was not happy of her intrusion. "Shut your mouth Cloak."

"Oh oh," Selphie teased, "are you here because you hear things? You know, I heard voices are hard to get rid of."

Squall gave her a vicious scowl. "No, I'm here because I killed someone of my own free will!"

"But you're a mercenary. 'Tis in the job description to kill someone."

_Fine!_ He thought venomously. _It's not your business to know what happened!_

"_No, tell her. She'll get a kick out of it."_

"What did I say about shutting up?"

"Oh, I can see you're grumpy. Good thing I'm here for an hour." Chimed the girl in front of him.

_An hour!_ He looked around for anything to throw. He saw what Selphie had on her lap.

She noticed how he grabbed the ball with his spindly white fingers. "Rinoa wanted to give you that in person." She started. Squall looked at Selphie as if she were lying.

Continuing: "She said she would come here herself, but she had stuff to take care of. So she sent me. It says so in her letter." She pointed at the letter tapped to the ball. Squall saw it too. He took it off, and looked at it. On it, was no stamp, no address, and no return address, not even a name. He aimed to remove the yellow ribbon, but his fingers were much too jittery, and did not obey him well. He even tried using his teeth.

Selphie noticed this and took the parchment. "That's not how you open a letter." She started, still smiling. Squall gave her a secret scowl, angry at her transgression.

The envelope did open for her, and, at least she handed the paper back. Squall snatched it right out of her hands and began reading. It brought him comfort to hear how Rinoa was oblivious to what had happened, as her innocence was something to be cherished for him. Now he was free to die in peace.

He put the letter down and took up the ball with both hands. He turned it around several times, admiring its teal skin. He came to the symbol. Tracing it with his finger. First the ring, then the triangle, he began to recognize the seal. It seamed familiar. Why was it?

"_I know what it means!"_ Cloaked teased. "_I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS!"_

"'Tis pretty isn't it?" Selphie asked.

Squall looked up at her. "Where did you get this?"

"Found it in some statue in a big house in Timber."

"You found it in prison?"

"I didn't say _the_ big house. I said a big house."

"A corporate building?"

Selphie giggled as if he said something funny. "Squall, why do you care so much about where we got it."

"This symbol. I've seen this stamped all over the Deep Sea Research Centre."

"But we didn't find it anywhere near the sea."

"_Ask her who she fought for it."_

Squall obeyed. "Who did you fight this for?"

"No one. There was, just this scuffle between the Forest Owls, and this other group they call the Forest Bears, and this big GF that this one girl had blew the statue apart, and out came that ball. Also, came with this really cool purple crystal rock it did, but Rinoa didn't think you'd like it so she just sent the ball."

He looked over at Selphie stoically, then back at the ball. He hugged it, relishing the feeling that Rinoa didn't remember him for a free lancing killer. In that instant, Cloak seemed to go quiet.

"Aww," quirked Selphie, watching how Squall hugged the innate ball. "Group hug!" She extended her arms with another of her impassible smiles. Squall growled at her like a bulldog as soon as he saw this, so she put her arms down again.

"Okay, no group hug then." Concluded she, putting her hands back to her sides.

§

Squall had gotten the strength to walk with Selphie to the front door. Flanked, of coarse, by Dodds, and another nurse called Skelton, whom he had come to both hate.

The girl waved goodbye to him as if she were going to see him again very soon. He, however, knew better, which was why he did not lift a hand, but continued to hold tightly onto the ball. He watched her leave, sauntering down the gravel lot towards both her rentals. He also wondered why there was a chocobo in the back seat of her car.

Throughout the last hour, she had talked mainly of what the Forest Owls were doing, and spared no detail of how Rinoa was getting along, to his great relief. Though, he was a bit concerned about that financial slump Selphie mentioned. She even goaded him into writing a letter back. Squall was highly reluctant, he wasn't sure he could have written anything that would give him away, or sound like he was whining. He wasn't even sure if the doctors would even allow him to use a writing utensil.

But, he did not forget to tell Selphie to not mention where he was, or how he got there. She had obliged easily to his wish, saying flat out that she would not say a thing. Then, she urged him to tell him how he was doing. He found the question highly amusing, but didn't show the slightest emotion.

"I'm in a goddamn nut house." He scolded at her. "What do you think?"

"Well…did you make any new friends?" She asked innocently.

He gapped inanely at her.

"Well," she started to explain, "you are in a mental hospital. I was thinking that you would, you know, find someone with a common interest, aye."

He still stared at her.

"Well then, tell me how that blood thing is going with you?"

"I bit my hand, and it bled."

"Yeah, that nurse at the reception desk told me you were a biter."

"My blood was black."

"Quistis told me that fake blood was a funny colour."

"I've heard they wanted to transfer me to the Deling Front."

"Hey! 'Tis a free trip!"

"They're not taking me on a tour you ditz!"

"Now, now. Ditz is a very sexist name. Why not use rock head, or chowder brain, they're not sexist in the least."

"Glad to."

A stationed nurse hit Squall over the head with a news paper everytime he issued a violent threat towards Selphie for saying something stupid. It went much like that for a few more minutes until Nurse Gret, short for Gretta, who was looking after him, told her it was time to leave.

Now, he stood on the top of the stone steps, watching Selphie drive away. The flanking nurses turned him away from the outside. He barely heard the door close behind him. Turned around, back towards the hospital, were Nurse Gret and Dr. Raven.

Squall let out a warning hiss towards his doctor as he came towards him. Gret held out a syringe filled with anesthesia. The stagnant yellow ooze looked no better then a dose of strychnine. He stopped hissing, backing up instead. The Dodds and Skelton stopped him from stepping too far away.

The doctor approached him professional like. "Did dat girl give you dat ball?" He spoke the chosen tongue of New Galbadian. His patient refused to answer, choosing rather to move the ball further away from his sight. Skelton took hold of the ball forcefully. Squall tried pulling away from him, but Dodds grabbed him unskillfully by the neck and forearm. He submitted easily, but still unwillingly.

As Skelton took the ball, he gave it to Dr. Raven to examine. The doctor turned it around, pressing it in various places for durability. After a few moments, he concluded that the ball was of no real danger to Squall, or anyone else. Too hard for him to pop, or even bite into, yet soft enough that it could not cause any damage. He also noted that there was no seam on the rubber, no mark of where it was molded. It was a perfectly round ball.

He gave the ball back, but instead of snatching it, Squall did not reach for it until Dodds let go of him. Gret took hold of his hand less forcefully then the others, leading him back into the wheal chair she had brought with her.

Dr. Raven gave her a few last words before she took her patient back to his cell. "Make sure dat ball stays in his room, it could be a problem if he bounced it all over de hospital."

Nurse Gret agreed, then, wheeled her patient back to his cell.

§

Half of the plan had been pieced together, but Seifer was still missing some crucial elements.

It was decided that the next day, Fujin would have to go back to work to do a bit of undercover studying. Find out any and all entrances and exists. Bring back any information she could about their security system, and any information about the staff and patients that would come in handy.

The next day, she held true to the plan. She discovered the entrances and exits, as well as a few other tidbits.

The first noticeable entrance was the main door, but it stood as highly monitored and too obvious. There was another, less obvious way in through the back by the cafeteria and kitchen. The security wasn't high, but its strategic position would have been tricky, and detection would have been high regardless. Windows on the fifth and fourth floor were opened, but only in the afternoon, and they were also monitored; heavily, as if it were common for some escapee to jump out of them. They could have also gotten in through the basement. Security was higher then what would have been expected. But, as Fujin found out by mid afternoon, it branched off into several areas: the kitchen, the security control, where the only place that any _real_ money was spent, the children's psychiatry ward, and the furnace room. A skylight was built on the roof, accompanied by overgrown ivy on the walls, and the grand sequoias that grew above the whole complex. It would have not been difficult to get to it. The problem was, getting back out the same way.

The whole security system was built as such, that it concentrated more on keeping people in, rather then keeping them out. It wasn't hard to see why they chose to do so. Their position in the jungle would have made it rather hard for intruders too get to them in the first place. So the main problem lay with keeping their patients out of the jungle. Much of the windows were equipped with the latest in heat sensors and electro shock, from the inside. If anyone were to touch it while the electrodes were on, they would get a nasty buzz. The windows that had this system were only on the first three floors. The last two floors only had motion detectors on them, and did not but alert security. There were several red, circular tiles that lined the floors of the hospital that were equipped with infrared sensors. These were turned on only after hours when much of the halls were quiet. The tiles, as Fujin had said, would not have been hard to see, but they would have been hard to avoid.

The danger patients sported was told by what floor they were on. The second floor being the most docile, the fifth floor, held the ones that where true troubled customers. As well as that, the higher up one went, the more blind patients one came across. Squall was on this top floor. It was widely known that at times, he would bite anything that moved, even his own hand. Fujin also told them that he was a bit weak for some reason, which made him ferocious when cornered. He had already injured three doctors and two nurses, and had stabbed himself in the thigh with a wooden stake, saying: "It won't heal, why would I care!". For some reason, he had be taken away by two male nurses for that action, and wouldn't stop cursing at either one of them. Of course, the cureses were in Alcauldian. His doctor, Dr. Karrion, had asked her specifically to translate. As she could have guessed, he was not really pleased to know that Squall had called him and every other doctor 'mother fuckin', cunt biting quacks'.

Odd things to find were cannibals, and there were three of them in the hospital. One doctor nearly lost his face to one of them, and another lost part of his arm before they sedated the patient. The children were not to be underestimated as well, that was how they lost five of them. Two escaped, two killed themselves, only one did so intentionally, and one received mercy killing.

The nurses, allotted Fujin, were not of the brightest lot. But the doctors were different, some even deserved to be patients.

That day was also the day that she heard the screams. Why were they screaming? Who was screaming? She told some of the other staff about it, but they had told her that many of the patients had some very pressince and scary issues.

After close deliberation, Seifer could find that the security system was pretty high, but held one great flaw. They trusted their staff too much. It was not worth it to just sneak into the hospital, highjack Squall, and disappear into the night, they would be caught trying to get out. The best route was for all of them to work undercover.

Fujin would return, as she had always, but she would not be alone. She would need to take the bus, and Raijin and Seifer would go with her. While she entered through the front as if nothing was wrong, the other two would head around to the back carrying a plastic bag with a few 'essentials': one smock with the alias of 'Dr. Wynhan', and one teal nurses uniform with the alias 'Nurse Allymer' on the nametag, a bottle of chloroform, thirty feet of rawhide rope, and a rag. Raijin would go in posing as a nurse, since he knew so little Galbadian; it was better for him to do so. If the nurses were as dense as Fujin made them out to be, he would have no trouble getting around. Since the doctors were of a different matter, and obviously smarter, Seifer would go in disguised as one of them.

He would find that Dr. Karrion, and, with the alibi that he had just arrived at the job, would hope that he would give him some much needed access. They would have to be patient for the entire operation to work. It would probably take them a few days at most for him to get Karrion to trust him enough to get access to Squall.

§

That day had passed with little known exuberance. Zell had made a traditional Balambese dish for the Forest Owls. Sadly though, he had to substitute most of the ingredients, such as the fish for pigeons, the nutmeg for pepper, the keleymin herb for parsley, etcetra, etcetra. The desired work was not as it should have been, but at least Zell ate it.

Selphie had forgotten to drop the rental car off back where she got it, preferring to head none-stop back to Timber. Sly was still in the back. By now, he had pecked off enough of the covering on the drivers seat to reveal the metal frame.

The next day grew promising for Seifer and his posse as they began to execute their plan. Seifer had met Dr. Korax Karrion at last.

It had been in the kitchen when he met him. He had actually just planned on running in and seeing of the rumour that some of the patients' heads wound up in the fridge, when he had spotted a doctor warming up some coffee. Quickly, Seifer shut the fridge door out of anxiety. Unfortunatly, the door didn't close very well, and he stumbled a lot.


	12. Lost and Found

12

Lost and Found

The news of Squall's escape did not remain covered. Agents from Galbadian Intelligence had come only an hour later to pick him up when they learned the news. The first to know what had happened was the new President Hartung.

Two hours after he had received that news, he sat up at a great meeting of several of his officials. The room was laid out with teal carpet. The walls of marble coat supported by the same marble pillars, between each were tapestries of the Galbadian Coat of Arms and several Galbadian symbols. The ceiling was supported with bronze rafters that were flanked by the most intricate of organic designs, while the roof was painted to look like violet lined clouds. The door that led out was double, and oak, another sign of the Galbadian Coat of Arms was carved over it in silver. Golden bracers curved and twisted along the surface of the door. A golden chandelier with crystal light catchers hung over a huge, long spruce table. At the end, just in front of a high stained glass window was President Hartung. To his right was the Vice President. A seat down to his left was his Official Treasurer. To the Treasurer's immediate left was the Chairmen of Estate. A chair down from the Vice President was General Caraway. Beside him was Director of the Board of Health. Another seat sat empty, and at the end, adjacent to the President was the CEO of the G.B.N.: Director Sturlson.

"As Director Sturlson has told me," Hartung started, leaning on the spruce table, "several days ago, they received a call from the North Yaulny Hospital concerning a one Squall Leonhart. They had bluntly remarked that when he had bit himself in a delirious state, he bled black blood. Director Sturlson, would you care to give us the entire bit of news?"

"Certainly." The Director proposed, standing up from his seat. "The doctor who was in charge of the patient, Dr. Karrion, had told me that his blood was black, and that it had no cell activity at all when they checked it. He also mentioned that there was a strange odour coming from him."

"Was it corpse like?" Asked the Director of the Board of Health. "Because if it was, it's defiantly a mutation due to some poison."

Sturlson looked angrily at the interrupter. "Will you let me finish! It wasn't anything that would be considered a bodily odour. He smelled like one of those heavy duty felt markers they have in the schools. When some of our agents came to pick him up, they were told he escaped. Apparently, the door to his cell was left open somehow. Three of the nurses on duty had heard him scream and came rushing to see what the problem was. They saw him as he was trying to leave.

"Now, those three had dealt with him before, as I was told, they knew what they were doing, but this Squall defended himself, managing to steel a taseir and use it against them. He muttered something in his native tongue and out of nowhere, some creature shows up armed with two blades.

"One of them was killed instantly by the thing. The two left to go get help and sound the alarm. Shortly afterwards, something happens to the locks of every cell in the hospital and all the patients are free. The staff was occupied with trying to get all these other people rounded up that they did not spot Leonhart until he had already jumped out of a fourth floor window."

"And lived?" Asked the Treasurer disbelievingly.

"Of coarse. They wouldn't be so alarmed by this if he didn't."

"Then how would he survive a four story fall out of a plate glass window?" The Treasurer continued quizzically.

"Paramagic." General Caraway spoke up.

The rest of those present looked over at him.

"I know who you're all talking about." The General continued. "This 'Squall Leonhart', he was the leader of the Sorceress Assassination we attempted. He's a SeeD at Balamb Garden, they're known for mastering the most advanced forms of paramagic before many of the men in our army become officers."

"Then how is it they know such advanced magic?" Asked the Vice President sternly.

"Guardian Forces. Discovered by Dr. Odine of Esthar. While the rest of us are still wary about the side effects of using such things, they went ahead on adopted them into their group."

"So Leonhart was a mercenary." The Vice President thought out loud. "Don't those people start early?"

"Oh yes. When I saw him and his group, they were no more then teenagers. They start early so that they're veterans by the time they reach they're true prime."

"So this creature the nurses saw," began the President, "was either a very well trained monster or one of those Guardian Forces."

The CEO broke in with another comment about what he heard. "Dr. Karrion knew about the usages of Guardian Forces by the Garden, but was assured the patient had been completely separated from all three of his. Though, sometime las weak, someone who gave him a letter, and a kick ball visited him. The doctor found no danger in letting him have the ball. But, after he had escaped, they looked for that ball, and it was nowhere to be found. We assumed from that, that he had been given that Guardian Force by his visitor. A few days prior, a new doctor and nurse had been hired, and had disappeared after Leonhart had escaped, along with an orderly. They had reasons to suspect the three.

"What were their names?" Asked the Chairman of Estate.

"Dr. Rowan Wynhan, Nurse Merdoc Allymer, and Fujin."

"Fujin?" The President started absently. "No last name?"

"None that they received, but the doctor looked surprisingly like Seifer Almasy."

Everyone in the room began to mumble to themselves. The name Seifer Almasy they remembered all to well. It had not been but a mere few weeks ago when he had taken over the Galbadian capital of Deling after Sorceress Edea left and Sorceress Ultimecia took over. He had caused a sever dent in the military budget when he went after the Lunatic Pandora. An even bigger dent was made when SeeD took the floating fortress back. That was when Seifer had left without a trace. Very few outside of Deling would recall him though, as he managed to stay in one place for security.

The Director of Health asked the CEO: "Do you think it's possible that he went after Leonhart?"

"Who knows?" Answered Sturlson. "Almasy was always described as an aggressive go-getter. At this point, we have no idea what to think of him."

"So what about that black blood you mentioned." Spoke Caraway. "I don't know much about Guardian Forces, but I do know they don't change the colour of your blood."

"We have a good theory." Suggested Sturlson. "When we looked through any records of such enigma, we came by one name: Esthar."

"Esthar?" Asked the Vice President.

"The blood had no cell activity, thus, could not have been natural. It must have been artificial. Now, we don't have the technology to reproduce the effects of blood…"

"…but Esthar does." Finished the Director of Health.

"Exactly. Now we don't really have much idea of why he would have artificial blood, but we do have it on record that he was recently in Esthar on a mission to defeat this Ultimecia. The mission was a success, and that's all we know about it."

"And this was before he was admitted?" Started the President.

"Yes."

"Then Esthar is mixed into this somehow." Hartung Stated.

"Indirectly, yes."

Sitting down, Hartung shook his head with a heavy sigh. "If this were ever to get out into the media…"

"I get what you're saying Mr. President." The Vice began. "Exposure to the public could confuse the masses. We don't know much about the Estharians, or their leader. It's possible we could offend them somehow."

Caraway looked concernedly at the Vice. "Do you think it's possible it could start another war?"

"Why not. Fights have been started over smaller things."

"And that's why we sit and wait for Leonhart to rot in that jungle." Hartung finished. "People have gone in there and were lost for good. In the depressed, delirious state that Leonhart was said he was in, he will not make it out of there alive, Guardian Force or not."

"But the one who gave him the Guardian Force to begin with." The Chairman of Estate piped up. "If he's giving away those things for free, majour shit can and will go down."

Sturlson described the suspect. "The person was female wearing a yellow jean dress with wavy red hair. Described as young, perky, and air headed. She was last seen driving a green car with a chocobo down south…"

The Chairman found that odd about the big bird. "A chocobo…"

"We don't know," spoke Sturlson, "and we really don't want to know."

"Well, isn't that something," began the President, "all I thought we had to worry about was that alien scare."

Voices were heard outside.

Hartung commented again. "Speaking of which, they should be having another rally right on the Presidential lawn. We should hear the dogs soon…"

Just on queue, dogs started to bark, and people started to scream.

_I love dogs._ Hartung thought with a smile.

§

Headmaster Scrivens sat on his chair talking on the telephone to Dr. Karrion.

"I understand what you're saying," the Headmaster told him, "but why didn't you go after him yourself? No offense, just wondering."

"Well," the doctor started to explain, "If your SeeD is out there, he's as good as dead. There are monsters, predatory animals, parasites that have been known to suck a person dry. Not only that, but natural hazards as well. You got quicksand, scarps he could fall over and twist an ankle, poisonous berries he could eat, snakes…"

"Snakes are a natural hazard?"

"They are a part of nature, too."

"Okay, but what if he survives?"

"Well, then he crosses the Timber/Galbadian boarder. Once he crosses, he's got bandits to worry about. And, unless he has cash, or any other object of financial value, they are going to be very mad, if you get my drift. And, since he is a SeeD…"

"I know." Scrivens finished. As a SeeD, if Squall were to be killed, no one would pick up the body. It would leave behind a media circus if it were to be found. Once identified as SeeD, it would hurt Garden's reputation. Chances of finding the body were slim odds, even identifying it, but Scriven's wasn't considered a betting man. On the other hand, if he were found alive, he would be no more then an object for the time being. Chances of him being identified would be increased greatly, and Garden would be compensated, yet responsible, for any physical and psychological damages done to him. If he weren't found at all, it would go down as a permanent stain on the Garden record that they had failed to look after one of their own. Sure, SeeDs have died in battle and come across some horrendous accidents. But, having abandoned a SeeD to be looked after by someone else, then having him disappear on them, meant they were careless and lazy. All scenarios would be considered a blow at the face, unless…

"Thank you for the message Dr. Karrion." Scrivens spoke into the phone, trying to sound professional over his unbalanced nerves.

As courtesy, the doctor applied his blessing, then, both hung up.

Scrivens turned on the mic on his desk. "Quistis and Irvine, would you please come to my office? Now!"

§

Several people were in the showers in the boy's bathrooms. Eight, to be precise, because that was how many showers there were in the bathroom. The stalls did not go all the way up to the ceiling, but a ways down, exposing the occupents head to everyone else.

"Hey, d'ya know about Ifrit's Bane?" Started the SeeD named Cameron.

"Since when was volcanology a hot topic here?" Whined Irvine.

"You should have been here two months ago." Continued Cameron. "Astrophysics was the hot topic then."

"Astrophysics?! What kind of shit is that?! C'mon guys, we're, like, stark naked in the showers, talk about girls. Kay."

"You're sick." Spat Priam. Irvine laughed at that remark, it had been his intention to get that sort of reaction.

"You know what we should talk about." Began Yuri. "Aliens."

Jerrik groaned at the suggeston. "Aliens! Why the hell should we talk about some flavour of the weak?"

"Hey! I didn't hear you come up with a topic, Pickle Snot!"

"For your information, I no longer have anything but boogers up my nose."

"All the easier it will make for me to shove an eraser up there."

"Hey!" Broke in Irvine, sounding excited. "There's something new written on this stall!"

"Awsome." Commented Priam. "What does it say?"

"It says," Irvine squinted to read the small scrawl, "Mickey can suck my dickey."

"I will not!" Defended Mickey.

"No shit." Chuckled Gar. "Always wondered if you were gay."

"I'm not gay! Just the freak who wrote it!"

"Yeah, it sounds like something Gobie would write. Isn't that right Gobie?"

"Damn straight!" Shouted Gobie in agreement. "I am your freak, Mickey!"

"Fuck you!" Mickey snapped back.

"You will? Oh, that's great." Mickey gave up on him with an irritated groan. The other boys laughed at that remark.

The intercom bell rang overhead. "_Quistis and Irvine, would you please come to my office? Now!"_

"Bloody hell...?!" Hissed Irvine as he got out of the shower.

"Yeah, ain't that always the way." Cameron chortled. "They always call when your taking a shower.

§

A few moments later, Quistis and Irvine stepped off the elevator and into his office. Irvine's hair was still wet from the shower he had to get out of when he heard the message.

"You wanted to see us sir?" Asked Quistis.

"Yes." He answered. "But before I ramble into tomorrow, you know that the jungle between the Yaulny and Monterosa is quite avid with flesh eating animals and monsters, and parasites that have been known to suck a person dry. And that there are times when a person loses much of their mind to various circumstances like hunger, disease, weariness…insanity…"

"Whoah." Irvine interrupted. "Sir, you're rambling on into tomorrow."

"Yes…" He admitted reluctantly. "Yes I am. So let's cut to the chase. Squall has escaped from North Yaulny Hospital."

Both SeeDs gave empty stares for a few seconds before Irvine turned to Quistis. "You owe me a hundred gill."

Headmaster Scrivens raised a suspicious eyebrow. "You made bets on this?"

"Pretty much everyone in the Garden has." Quistis shrugged. "Personally, Irvine bet me a hundred gill that he couldn't last a week in that place before he either escaped, or croaked."

"You knew he would escape!" Bellowed the Headmaster, standing up angrily from behind his desk.

"Not knew." Irvine defended quite casually. "We just had very lucky hunches. I mean, c'mon. He's a SeeD, and has, like, three or some GF's on him…"

"We disjunctioned him!"

"Well…that is weird." He scratched the back of his head, feeling quite stupid about what he had said. "And lucky, for Squall at least."

Headmaster Scrivens blamed the negligence of the hospital employees as well. The nurses that survived the encounter with Strychnine did not know what she was. They told others it was a monster. Dr. Karrion had dismissed it as such, so, never mentioned that possibility.

"…And an axe over out necks!" Scrivens shouted in irritability. "If word of this got around, t'would be like a sucker punch in the nose!" He covered his head with his arms, a soft thunk sounded as laid his forehead against the desktop.

"But, we wouldn't suffer near as much if you could prove we did something about it." Began Quistis.

"I know." Scrivens looked up at her from down on the desk, making her shrug with surprise.

"You two are going to look for him." He continued, sitting back on his chair.

"Sir," protested Irvine. "You want us to look for him? As in, the two of us?"

"Yes, well, I do know that out of the present SeeDs in this Garden, you are probably the only two he wouldn't run away from."

"So basically," Quistis inquired, "you want us to go look for the kitten in the auto-wrecking yard."

"Exactly."

Not completely up to date, Irvine asked, "So…when did he escape?"

"Last night at around 1900 hours. He was last seen running into the jungle north of the premises. They tried to tranquilize him on the way, but missed.

"So why don't they, like, go look for him." Irvine asked bitterly.

"They're lazy, that's why!"

Quistis thought over the information they were given. "1900 hours. That would have given Squall plenty of time to make tracks. People have been known to take five steps into that jungle and get lost, how are we to track him down exactly?"

"With this." He answered, producing a hand held radar screen from one of the drawers in his desk. The device was handed to Quistis. She looked at the small screen. On it was a static map of the world, with several blinking green lights, one of them that was shown somewhere around the Yaulny rain forest was red.

"It was something Cid had worked on to record tabs of his first students." Continued Scrivens. "And, when we got radio signals back, it made a great tracker."

"So I see." Remarked Irvine, as Quistis was looking at the screen she held. "So, when do you want us to leave?"

"Oh, right frikkn' now would be fine. Now beat it!"

Startled at his sudden outburst, Quistis and Irvine stumbled as they ran as fast they could out of his office.

When the doors had been closed, Irvine addressed Quistis on a concerned note. "Is it me, or is he more uptight then usual?"

"He's defiantly more uptight then usual. The stress of his position probably supersedes the stress of his old one."

"Or maybe he's just really bent on getting Squall back to the loony bin before he's blamed."

"Probably, but I don't see how this thing is going to help us with that." She held up the radar screen.

"And why not?" Irvine asked smugly.

"Because, I know damn well what this thing is. I was an instructor for a year. I heard that this project wasn't entirely Headmaster Cid's idea."

"So who'd he, like, work with? Matron?"

"I don't know?! It could have been NORG for all I know. But I do know that the little homing device given to Squall is kaputs."

"Kaputs." He started, glaring suspiciously at her. "And just what does that mean."

"What it means… kaputs. I don't know exactly why, but all the little devices were put up into the nasal, right in the top part of the nose." She put her finger beside the bridge of her nose. "Seifer bashed it good. I think that's also how Squall lost his sense of smell and taste, since that thing has small receivers."

"Whoa, hit the brakes sister." Interrupted Irvine. "If those things were in the nasal, then how come there's no scar."

"They put it through the nostril. Now that I think about it, it could have been done with Shumi technique."

"Then how come Seifer still has his sense of taste and smell…I think he still has his sense of taste and smell."

"Because," snapped Quistis, "Squall didn't hit him nearly as deep as he did. Now come on! Every second we waste jawing away is a better chance of never finding Squall again, dead or alive." She left Irvine standing by the Headmaster's office as she stormed towards the elevator.

Irvine beckoned to her. "Hey, if that thingamadoohicky is no good to us, why are you still holding onto it?"

"Because it's heavy." Argued Quistis. "And heavy objects can be useful at times."

"I'm with that, but what's with that red blinky thingy by the Yaulny jungle I saw? I thought you said Squall's nose chip was busted?"

"I don't know?!" Quistis scoffed as she got on the elevator. "I'm not psychic!"

"Hey, I was just saying," he quipped back, getting onto the elevator as well. Irvine continued to defend his point as they descended.

§

Driving over tropical thickets and lumber roared an all terrain jeep. Fujin was at the wheel, beside her was Seifer, and sitting in back was Raijin.

"I don't see why we had to go back home ya know." Replied Raijin.

"Well, I sure as hell wasn't going into this jungle unprepared!" Snapped Seifer.

"AGREED!" Agreed Fujin. "JUNGLE, DANGEROUS!"

"Besides," he continued, looking back at Raijin. "We had to get armed with something."

"MESSY, BUT DO-ABLE!" Fujin agreed again.

Not only had they stolen a jeep, pathetic as it was, they had gotten their weapons, and Seifer had settled for a dagger. They had also adorned proper attire for trekking the hot, humid forest. Even though he still carried his overcoat with him, Seifer got a more practical, yellow cotton T-shirt for the trip. Torn of coarse, at the one sleeve, and rather heavy boots to ward off any snakebites. Fujin also had a T-shirt, only brown to ward of the more pesky mosquito bites, and dark pants over sandals. Raijin wore a fisherman's vest with its many pockets, and abandoned his usual pants for shorts. He still didn't wear a shirt, it was unknown why he didn't want to wear any shirts, but he did have a necklace of bone for some reason.

"What happens, ya know," Raijin started, "if we accidentally run over Squall, ya know?"

"I can only think of so many things at a time!" Seifer barked.

"Just wondering, ya know."

"CONCERNED!" Fujin added.

"And you should be." He spat back. "You're the one driving at eighty miles and hour through super dense thicket!"

"GO FAST, YOU SAID!"

"Well, slow down then!"

Fujin didn't slow down, but stopped entirely. The breaking speed of the old vehicle was incredible. Seifer and Raijin were nearly thrown out of their seats.

"SEATBELTS?"

"No way, that's why this thing doesn't have a roof."

§

The Garden made a pit stop by the hospital to let Quistis and Irvine off. Dressing appropriately for the humid climate, Quistis wore a tie-dye T-shirt over khaki shorts. A strong, black leather belt she wore at the waist held her chain whip, a set of spark plugs, and a couple of pouches filled with dried fruit, antidotes, and a jack knife. Not the most concerned about snakebites, she only wore white sandals. Irvine had donned a khaki shirt with several pockets filled with antidotes, curative potions for the real emergencies, and several pieces of fresh ammo for his gun. He also wore khaki shorts, and hard leather boots, not forgetting his regular cowboy hat to begin with, as well as getting himself a pair of sunglasses. His gun, he had over his shoulders, as well as a large backpack filled with flint, canned food, a few blankets, tranquilizer darts and a bag of anaesthetic.

"Why the sunglass?" Started Quistis as they walked down the parking lot. "Those things are cheap pieces of plastic that make you look like some wild game hunter."

"Hey, it gets bright around here. Besides, they do make me look like a dignified wild game hunter. And so does the entire wardrobe." Irvine commented. "So, like, what's with the tie-dye?"

"Wendigo's are sensitive to colours. If you show them a bunch of bright colours at the same time, they can't see you."

"Sweet. But about the spark plugs…"

"Zip it Kinneas."

Dr. Karrion, as well as two other doctors, were waiting for them just in front of the stone steps. It was remarkable, as the only medical doctor that they had to work with in their life was Dr. Kadowaki. Karrion had short, wavy black hair and dark eyes, appearing to be only in his late thirties, not quite the conventional picture of the standard quack either Quistis or Irvine envisioned.

Approaching them, Quistis greeted in 'mainly' New Galbadian. "_Lithgame._ I'm SeeD Quistis Trepe. This is my associate, Irvine Kinneas. We've been told about our comrade Squall Leonhart."

"Yes," started Dr. Karrion, "I had a feeling you would come out." He started a few steps away from the other doctors. To them, he looked, and sounded a bit worried. "As you're Headmaster has probably told you, he ran away last night into de jungle."

"Just, where did he exit the building?" Quistis asked the doctor with heavy concern.

Dr. Karrion and the two others took them around back, where a large clearing of gravel separated the back door from the jungle. The flowers and ferns they saw were huge, it was no wonder why they couldn't shoot Squall once he was in their cover.

"He jumped out of de fourt story window." Dr. Karrion started, pointing upwards toward the broken pane. Irvine and Quistis looked up. It would have been a long way to fall.

"Damn!" Remarked Kinneas, looking back at the doctor. "Was there anything under that window at the time."

"No." He answered. "We don't know what happened. He was already running towards de fern beds by de time we got someone dere to sedate him."

"Was there anyone else?" Quistis asked.

"Another doctor and nurse had seen the whole thing." One of the other doctors, a white haired woman, answered. "But they disappeared after the ordeal along with an orderly. We don't have the entire picture."

"Why did they leave?" She asked some more. "What were their names?"

Dr. Karrion answered for the other doctor. "Dere was a Dr. Wynhan, a Nurse Allymer, and Fujin, who had just recently been hired. We don't know de last name of de Fujin girl, so don't ask."

Both the Garden students looked strikingly at each other. Chances were great that he was talking about only one Fujin.

"Was this 'Fujin' silver haired with a patch over her left eye?" Irvine questioned.

"Yes." Replied Dr. Karrion.

"What did the other two look like?" Now it was Quistis's turn to question.

"De nurse was dark skinned and rater large in build." He told them. "Dr. Wynhan had short blond hair, and a scar across his nose." He traced the direction of the scar he had seen, starting from under the right eye, to ending over the left.

Both of them gave a poker face of deep thought, then Irvine spoke up. "Could you excuse us for a second while we discuss something."

"Certainly." Allowed the doctor.

Irvine spun around to face Quistis, whispering in Alcauldian. "What the hell is Seifer doing here?"

"Your guess is a good as mine." She whispered back in the same language. "But I don't think they were here to earn a legal living."

"And what gives with this doc?"

"Say what?"

"I'm not sure about Doc Karrion, or that girl over their, but that other guy with the dark brown hair and googly eyes ain't no doctor."

"How so?"

Irvine arched his neck to look at the silent doctor for a moment, and then turned back. "You know that guy I was talking about in the infirmary? Well that's him."

"That's Tergo?"

"Damn right. I'll never forget how his eyes always turned like that when he was unsure of himself."

"Well, what's he doing out here?!"

"Beats me. But this, like, all has to go with Squall flying the coop, Seifer and his lackeys, and Tergo getting out here and posing as a doctor with no clue from the others. Then there's some pretty rotten dog pies flyin' around here."

"No kidding." Quistis caved.

"So, now that we heard more then we would like to know. What do we do now?"

"Act like we know nothing."

Irvine nodded his agreement, then they both turned back towards the 'doctors'.

"Which way did he run off." Quistis asked in New Galbadian.

"Dat way." Dr. Karrion motioned just behind them. "Now, if you excuse me. I have to go attend to some otter patients." He left them as if they were none of his business. The female doctor turned to fallow. She did not get but halfway out of their sight before Tergo revealed a switchblade he hid under his medical smock. He threw it at the other doctor, hitting her in between the shoulders. She dropped to her knees, and was dead.

In reaction, Quistis got out her whip while Irvine aimed for him.

Tergo looked unhappily at the two and their poised weapons. "That won't help you." He croaked in New Galbadian, his voice was chalky and hoarse. Walking over sludgingly to the dead woman, he plucked out his knife.

The two shifted uneasily as he walked up to them. "Stay right where you are Tergo." Warned Irvine. "I don't miss at twenty paces, the odds of you dodging at point blank are nil to inhuman."

His knife dripped of fresh blood, but he did not raise it. "I'm glad you came." He spoke softly.

"That's good." Irvine quipped back. "Now do us a favour and loose the knife."

"It's not me you should be afraid of. If they find Squall, they will kill him."

"Define 'they'." Quistis ordered coldly.

"Who else. Since the Coalition of Heath was passed thirteen years ago, this hospital has gotten more funding then it should. But most of that money goes into the pockets of its employees. And they want it to stay that way."

Quistis and Irvine lowered their weapons once they noted no hostility from Tergo.

He continued: "If that means burning the evidence, then that's what they will do."

"But I thought they weren't doing anything about this?" Quistis inquired.

"They lie, they cheat, and they will kill!" His voice caught in a mammalic hack. Coughing for a few seconds, he started again. "They're as bad as those fat cats in Deling. They've already sent five patsies to go find him." He pointed behind them to a garage at the side of the building. "Most jeeps they collect are top of the line. One of them was stolen last night, and is probably on the same mission. They know this jungle better then you think. They have ways."

His story was unusually believable. Irvine set his gun back on his shoulder, though Quistis still kept her whip on hand just incase.

"These ways," she addressed Tergo, "what are you meaning by them?"

"Their ways." He quirked enigmatically. "They will kill you two as well if they find you again. You're appearance was unwelcome. They're already getting their guns…"

"So let's amskray!" Irvine shouted. "Tergo, been a pleasure. Peace."

"Wait a minute!" Snapped Quistis, taking hold of Tergo's forearm. "I've been a SeeD long enough to know when to take hostages."

Irvine looked at her with disdain. "You can't be serious? Did you just see what he did to that girl over there?"

"I'm not blind. And that's why we can't let this guy out of our sight."

Tergo shrugged free of her grip, backing up only a few paces. "Who says I have to go with you?"

"Well, you don't have much of a choice." She started. "It's either us, the hospital, or the jungle."

In turn, he looked at all three of these options. "If you've lived my life," he growled at them, "you would not hand out such choices." Swiftly, he raised his knife, cutting his own throat. Tergo collapsed on the gravel, taking in his last laboured breaths.

"Tergo!" Irvine panicked, running to his side. "What the hell was that for?"

Tergo looked up at him with bloodied glazed eyes. "I don't like what I have become." He stuttered weakly. His blood poured freely over the gravel.

"Then why did you bother with the warning?" Asked the candidate. "You can't be all that bad."

Tergo closed his eyes, but continued to talk, even though he was breathing to hard for clear language. "Irvine, I've always admired you. You may not have noticed, but I have." Giving his last breath, Tergo gave up. His corpse settled limply on the rocks.

Irvine looked solemnly down at the body. "Holy crap. I have an admirer. Or, 'had' is more like it. But you know, to have a dead admirer is better then having none at all…"


	13. Quagmire

13

Quagmire

Quistis had the jeep rolling at a fairly good speed, crashing into ferns and snapping twigs. While both Irvine and her looked ahead of them, only Squall paid attention to what they were leaving behind, regardless of the fact that he couldn't see _what_ they left, he could still go back and know that what was behind him would eventually bite him where it hurt. He hoped it didn't, but his gut, and cloak, reminded him that there was not way out.

"_Are you sure they know what's best for you?"_ Cloak asked him with askew concern.

"I know what a did." He snuffed at the voice. Irvine looked over at him, trying to discern why he was talking.

Cloak broke in again more forcefully. "_How can you be sure you made the right choice? Look at them, just look at them! Oh, wait, you can't. **HA HA HAAH HAAAA!**"_ He conjured mental images of them, first Irvine, then Quistis, the images still fresh and digital clear in his mind.

He heard Irvine speak from behind a sonic curtain of glass. "Are you all right Squall? Who are you talking too?" Cloak had gotten to his senses, and they became blurred for a second.

"_Watch your back Appalling Pace! At least keep an ear open. You don't know if they're lying or not. Who knows? They could be taking you back to the Cold Storage."_

"You don't know them!" He defended, turning his head away from Irvine.

"_What did I SAY?!"_

Squall choked on the answer, he knew what she was talking about.

"_WHAT DID I SAY?!"_ She demanded an answer.

He managed to cough up a weak answer for her. "You know everything I know."

"_I do. And I know who sent you to the Cold Storage in the first place! Think of Trepestrophe. Remember! She made a promise, and ended up ratting you out!"_ Squall thought of her dirty trick, scowling hotly. He did remember, he had punched her in the eye for it! To drive something into the back of her neck seemed tempting.

"_Now, think about at Kinneas. He supported her! He was the one that shot you with that dart! You know, the one that made you vulnerable to their hands, and their eyes. They took your dignity as well as your clothes, and chained you up like some stray mutt. Give me your resolve, NOW!"_

"No, NO! That's not true!" Squall yelled, covering his head and rocking back and forth. "I'm not alone! I'M NOT!"

From the front seat, Quistis became wary. "Irvine!" She turned momentarily to see what was happening. "Keep him still! We can't have him falling out on us, I could run him over!"

Grabbing him with both arms, Irvine tried his best to keep the wriggling patient still. "I'm, like, trying!"

"And your try is good, just keep him in the jeep. I'll stop as soon as I'm sure we won't park on anything alive!"

"_When will that be?"_

Strycnine fallowed Cloak's question with one of her own. "_Should I come out?"_

_No! I can take care of this!_

Putting both hands firmly on his shoulders, Irvine demanded Squall to look at him. "Squall, look at me! Calm down!" Squall stopped wriggling, looking straight forward, a little lowere then Irvine's eye level, his own blistered eyes looking blindly at his chest with a dead glare.

"Hey, we's just trying to, like, help you. Chill for a sec, alright, and hear us out..." He stopped when he saw the slivered glint of Squall's eyes, lowered in what he thought was just a stubborn act of pride. But, when grabbed his face with both hands and forced him to look at him, he saw clearly the clouded, blood shot blisters blocking his once rich, blue irises. Of course, Squall stuggled to get free of his grip.

"_Eng Mond smail!_" Dear holist of Gods Sputtered Irvine, remembering that hazed cover of optic sores.

"It's your fault!" Squall snapped. Lashing from side to side, Irvine did not see him make a move for his arm. He bit into his flesh, hard and quick. Stunned and flinching, he was free long enough to jump out the back of the vehicle.

"Quistis!" Irvine yelled. "Squall's out!"

In reaction, she stepped on the brakes. The jeep pulled to a stop over a bed of wild pink Thorngoes. Both of them got out, running after their escaped target.

The jump out had not been easy on Squall. The misfortune to land on his wounded leg, jolted the joint into uneasy submission. It almost felt like he had dislocated the kneecap.

"_Here they come!"_ Panicked Strychnine. Squall could hear, too, getting out of their vehicle and comeing up from behind. With working withdrawal effects, the adrenalin in his veins gave him an unhealthy surge of energy. Getting up to his feet, he dashed off for only a few meters before he ran face first into a tree. Getting up quick and ignoring the stinging in his nose, he felt the bark of the tree. It was a Barbed Sequoia, Not thinking twice, he scaled its trunk by aid of its knobby protrusions

Quistis reached the tree first, but not before Squall had gotten halfway up to the canopy.

Irvine looked up at him, crawling his way up the trunk at a cat's speed. "Damn, look at him go! I had no idea he was such a monkey?"

"Any other time, he sure is." Started Quistis in disbelief. The rough bark protruded knobs that grew to barbs higher up the tree. Hence the name 'Barbed Sequoia'. Squall took full advantage of the footholds, though, his hands were spread wide against the bark, holding onto neither barb nor branch for support. Both his hands and feet were bare, giving him great hold onto the tree.

Quistis continued, looking up at Squall. "I've seen him climb the girders in the cafeteria, and, on one occasion, the bookshelves in the library. But how the hell can he climb in his condition?!"

Irvine offered his opinion. "Well, they say in a moment of great stress, you can get, like, super-human strength."

"Well, I'll have to take your word for it." She sighed, not really believing that tripe. "What was that that creeped you out in the jeep?" She asked with more concern.

"Oh, Squall bit me."

"No, before that. You uttered: 'Dear holiest of Gods'. What was that about."

"Oh, that. Well, he had blisters on his eyes, think he's blind. Don't know how, or why he would burn his own corneas, though."

Quistis looked up at the one shimmying up the tree like a raccoon. "Blind? Could have fooled me."

Squall stopped only a few feet from the bottom of the canopy, he had no idea if he lost his persuers or not. His hands were still against the bark, and his feet still on the boughs of barbs.

"_They arn't gone."_ Cloak scowled. "_They will not let you slip. Talking amongst themselves. Kinneas heading for the bushes. The Blow Out Teacher looking back up at you…"_

"Squall…!" She called up to him. "Come down here this instant!"

"Make me!" He yelled back.

"Okay…reasonable answer! Seriously, it's not safe for you to be climbing up trees!"

"Whatever!"

Quistis muttered angrily to herself. "Whatever…whatever, whatever… Squall! Don't play games with me!"

"I could tell you not to do the same thing to me!"

"No one's playing games with you!"

"Yeah, I'm going to believe that! And, while I'm at it, why don't I just believe in unicorns and magical rainbow kittens that grant you three wishes!"

"Okay, so you're steamed. Also quite reasonable!"

"You damn right it is!"

"But Squall," pleaded Quistis. "We are concerned at Garden. We only want to help!"

"Then Kinneas should have shot me with a live bullet!"

"It's not like that! We understand you don't like this institution! We didn't know you were going here, honest! If you come down, we can get you into a _real_ institution! A good one! In Dollet!"

Squall thought for only a brief moment on that, more of wondering where Irvine was instead of paying attention to the talker. He could tell that the shooter wasn't talking. A shooter not talking? That was logical thinking, a shooter would...

Quistis still tried to convince him to come down. "Please come down Squall? You can trust me!"

"Well, what about Kinneas?" At that very second he said his name, Irvine fired a dart. Unbelievable to the two of them, Squall jumped from his current tree to another, the dart hit a branch and was lost. His feet automatically found sturdy barbs as fast as his hands grabbed the trunk.

Both of the two on the ground gasped in awe at such a feet. Gaining his bearings, Irvine stopped gawking and got another dart ready. He shot at Squall again, more concentrated on his targeting, but his target leaped to another tree again. Quickly, he got another dart prepared, noting how he had only two other darts left. Thinking to himself, he noted also, that every time Squall jumped, it was to his left. Taking this into account, he made sure to aim a little ways to his own left, away from him. Hoping that, if he jumped, he would hit Squall's arm, or shoulder.

The crosshairs of the scope came only a few degrees away from the target. Irvine was about to fire until he realized his plan had a flaw. What if Squall didn't jump? He had only two darts left, not counting the one in the gun. Quickly realizing, he figured he had aimed for his neck the last two tries. This time, he set the crosshairs at his shoulder, allowing the dart a wider rang.

Irvine fired.

It seamed to happen slowly to him. Squall heard the shot, like he would an incomeing knife, guessed the distance and speed. As common as any reaction, he stuck his hand out. He nearly lost his footing, thinking the dart had got him, but not likely. Baring a moment to recolect what had really happened, Squall felt the dart, held by his index, middle finger, and thumb. He had caught the dart with his bare hand, and withought the aid of sight!

Quistis, not at a good angle to see what happened, called up to him. "What do you have there?"

He frowned disgustedly, throwing the needle down at her. "If you want it, you can have it!" She ducked and covered her head expecting a major blow, only to get harmlessly hit in the head with the blunt end of the dart.

Irvine prepared another dart, but Squall scrambled further up the tree. He reached the bottom most part of the canopy, setting himself on a sturdy bough. Irvine, now, couldn't make a clear shot at him. Too many branches were in the way.

He jumped out of his sniper position, heading up beside Quistis, who looked up at the tiny silhouette up in the tree.

"How'd you do that?!" He yelled upwards, staring up the tree. In response, he got several of the nutty tree seeds thrown at him.

"He's really worked on his aim." Quistis commented to him. "I mean, _really_ worked on his aiming."

Irvine ignored the comment, looking back up into the tree. "Hey Squall! No hard feelings about before! Okay!"

"I'm still not coming down!" Squall shouted back.

"Oh, c'mon! They're, like, nothing but 'put-you-to-sleep' darts! They're harmless! Alright!"

"They feel like death!"

"Okay! Bad topic! Let's talk about the weather!"

Quistis slapped him in the shoulder. "Irvine! What are you doing?"

"Just getting him relaxed. See, if we don't act all, like, official, and more, like, friendly like, he'll, like, trust us more, like, because we aren't, like, intimidating…like." He became silent as he was waiting for a reaction from Quistis.

"…Well what are you waiting for?" She scolded. "Get talking!"

"Hey Squall!" He started, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Aren't you, like, afraid of falling?!"

"Yes!"

"Then why did you climb so high?!"

"'Cause I could!"

"Then how could you?! You can't even lift your gunblade! You also can't really see where you're climbing, on account you're blind...!" Another large seed hit him in the face.

"Nice aim!" He called up.

"Kiss my ass, and I fart in your face!"

"Haven't you been kissing other asses since you became a SeeD?!"

"…And it makes me SICK!"

Quistis snapped at Irvine again. "I thought you said to keep it unofficial! At this rate, he'll never come down."

"Relax Quistis." He reassured. "He's a terrestrial creature, he has to come down from there sooner or later."

§

They pleaded with him well until after dusk.

Even when Irvine had gotten a decent bon fire going and a can of beans cooking, Quistis still tried to convince Squall to come down.

"No, I am not carrying a net!" She called upwards.

"Prove it!" Came the answer from the canopy.

Quistis lowered her hands in defeat. "This is monotonous. Irvine, could you possibly try to sedate him again?"

"Hey, I only have, like, two darts left."

"What about that one Squall threw?"

"Oh, that's all good. But, you know, I may be good at what I do, but, in this light, and in those trees, the odds of hitting him in three tries, like, doesn't add up a good enough sum."

"Well, isn't their anything we can do?! I'm at my wits end! All he does is take my words and turn them against me."

"I can see why. You were the one who squealed on him."

"And you were the one who sedated him! All I'm asking is for an idea here!"

"Hey, hey. No prob. I've got some beans stewing over the fire. He probably hasn't eaten since he busted out of the fruit basket, right? I bet he's famished."

"How's he going to find out we have food? He can't see us."

"Hey, this thing's been cooking for a while. The smell's probably wafting under his nose right now."

"He can't smell!"

"Oh…but, bear with me here." He called up the tree. "Hey Squall! You hungry?! We got some grub cookn' down here!"

His voice ran down with the strain of distance. "How do I know it's not poisoned, eh yah?!"

Irvine cursed in New Galbadian.

"See." Started Quistis. "I told you he just twists everything."

"Well, that may be so," he started, his expression easing up as he smiled slyly, "but we had a group of three little monsters in Galbadia Garden who always got themselves up trees to piss off the instructors. And one thing we all learned from those hooligans is that 'what goes up, must come down'. Hey, we're here on solid ground, we, like, have provisions; we can take care of any monsters who cross our path. It may be, like, all night, but eventually, Squall's goinna come down."

"Well yes," Quistis started worriedly, "I don't doubt that old cliché. But I'm worried about him falling! Do you get me?" She turned, wide eyed towards him. "Just because he climbed up there, doesn't mean he can climb back down. Even cats have trouble doing that. And at that height, it'll kill him!"

"…I see. Well, that's quite the problem."

She rolled her eyes in standard annoyance fashion. "Yes Irvine…a problem."

Squall strained his ears, wondering what they were discussing.

"_You know what I think?"_ Cloak asked venomously. "_They're deciding how to hold you until they get back to the Cold Storage."_

"They could be talking about anything." Murmured Squall.

"_You're right. Silly me. They're probably talking about taking you back to Garden, where they can properly contain you, and kill you, because you're such a handful."_

"Then what's stopping me from jumping?"

"_The treasure. Remember? All yours."_

"I need not stupid treasure!"

"_But, you want good treasure. I can give you that, I can give you more then just gold and pretty shinies. You should have kept Strychnine, she was a down payment."_

"I have Strychnine! Haven't you noticed?"

"_Hell no!"_

The tropical night breeze blew softly through the canopy. Though, normally balmy, to Squall, it felt chilled. His hearing grew groggy as his head started to throb. The grip he held on the bough began to slacken. He slowly switched his balance to accommodate this sudden change.

"_Check it out. Here it comes!"_

Squall lost his grip completely.

Irvine charged to his feet as soon as he witnessed the slightest slip of his balance. Quistis only noticed when Squall had completely let go of the branch.

"Oh my god! Squall!"

Holding out his hands, Irvine was ready to catch him. Not what he'd have expected, he didn't catch Squall, Quistis did.

She called to him, but he couldn't hear at such a close distance. His headache reached its critical point, and he felt very much like biting something.

Irvine started at the vacant expression in Squall's eyes and gapping mouth. "Hey, man. Are you all right?" Instinctively, he held out his hand toward him. Squall, feeling the vague vibrations of movement, surmised one thing: it was something to bite. So bite it he did.

The snap came with viper speed. It wasn't until a few seconds had passed before Irvine realized what happened and howled with the biting pain. Quistis momentarily let Squall go only to get him to let go of the fingers. He still couldn't hear them properly, Irvine began to whine more forcefully as he clamped harder onto his tiny finger bones. It didn't take much persuasion for Quistis to get her fingers into his mouth and pry his jaws open. Irvine's bloodied digits slowly meandered out of the forced open mouth.

He held his tender fingers in front of him. "Damn! What a set of clampers on him! You sure this is the right guy?!"

"Hey, you weren't the one he said 'whatever' to eight times!" She yelled, slipping her prying fingers out of Squall's mouth. As soon as he was no longer braced, he began to snap.

In reaction, Irvine backed up a ways from him while Quistis held onto him tighter, making sure he didn't wriggle loose and nibble on someone's toes. Thinking quickly, Irvine grabbed the gun he set on the ground and shoved it in front of Squall's face. He bit into the solid gray metal of the barrel, relaxing his writhing squirming as he started to chew the inanimate object.

Quistis let him down onto the ground gently as he continued to gnaw, curling up into a quaint little fetal position.

Irvine looked down at him. "Do you think this has anything to do with his teddy bear fetish?"

Like a snap of a firecracker, Squall heard that. He let go of the gun he had absolutely no knowledge about chewing, and stared forward with desdain, his back facing the other two.

"Who told you?!" He barked

Shocked at the sudden addressing, they both held their hands up as if in surrender, regardless that he wasn't even facing them. "Told us about what?" Irvine asked blatantly.

"You know what you said!" Mumbling an Alcauldian verse to himself, he balancing on his knees. What he did say was not entirely recognizable to either Irvine or Quistis. Too busy trying to decipher the genesis of the verse, they almost let Squall get away again. At the same time, the two threw themselves at him. Irvine had gotten him into a very tight headlock while Quistis held back his arms. As expected, Squall did squirm, and quite frantically. It was also expected, that, he would not put up a lasting fight. He quit in only a few moments, falling limply back on the ground when he was let go. The strange verse he had muttered before, he muttered again in a more audible, but just as shaky, tone.

Glowing with worry, Quistis bent down to help him up, only to have Squall resist. He continued to sing.

"Hey man." Irvine address. "You hungry? Got some beans on the fire." Squall didn't stop singing. He looked over at Quistis when he didn't get an answer, hoping she would. She accepted no accordance with him, and bent down again, this time to talk to the unnerved escapee.

She started softly to him, trying not to anger him again. "Squall…what's wrong." He stopped his singing, his whole livelihood seamed to perk up, a good sign that he was listening. "I just want to know what's upsetting you? Does this have anything to do with Headmaster Cid?"

"…No." Squall choked, his back toward her.

"Well…why don't we discuss this over dinner. We have beans."

"…I hate beans."

"Sorry to hear that partner." Chirped Irvine. "But you, like, don't have much of a choice." Finishing his sentence, he grabbed Squall around the waist, meaning for no ill intention, but Squall wriggled regardless.

"I'm not going back! You can't make me…!"

"Irvine!" Quistis scolded. "Put him down, NOW!"

He did so. In a frenzy, Squall crawled his way to the base of the nearest tree, where he sat quite still, staring back at the two people before him. The only movement he really did make, was the slow pulsing movement of his own breathing.

He heard Cloak hiss. "_The nerve of that bastard! Picking you up without your permission! He was never any fucking good from the start!"_

It was Irvine who suggested that he and Quistis should go back to the fire and wait for him to come to them. Quistis tried to protest with reason, but he assured her that if he tried to run, he wouldn't get far. He went back to the fire. Sitting down in front of it, he took the can of beans off the coals with two sticks he used as prongs. Just beginning to sit down, Quistis had deeper thoughts. Looking back, she noticed how Squall just huddled in front of the tree, glaring intently back at them with his inane stare, ready to pounce. She had expected much struggling when they found him, but not what she saw in front of her. She did not expect him to climb trees, throw acorns, bite, and scowl in the shadows like a hungry wolf, she had really expected a much more proud demeanor out of him, but, what was happening to his mind was defiantly changing him.

"Don't worry, he'll come." Assured Irvine while figuring out how to eat the beans without a fork.

"When?" Quistis asked angrily, turning her head towards him with a snarl. "How do you know what he's thinking?"

"Reverse psychology." He began with a superior smile. "You see, we say no, and he says yes."

"I'm aware of reverse psychology. It's never worked on him, and I doubt it's going to work now."

"Well, it's not going to work now if he can, like, hear you."

"He can hear you, too, Kinneas."

He had nothing to say in his defense.

Quistis had attempted bribing Squall, yelling orders, lulling him, ignoring him, even forcing him as Irvine had done, but every time she tried, he either yelled back at them or wondered off a bit further. As Irvine watched, he couldn't help but get frustrated at all the vain attempts. Reaching for his gun, he loaded his second last dart. His primer plan was to just shoot Squall at point blank, but stomped that idea as soon as he saw him scurry across the forest floor from tree to tree, looking back out towards the darkness. His head perked up a couple of times as he attempted to stand up, reminding him of a startled rabbit. Irvine got up himself while Quistis stayed by the fire. With the barrel aimed at his back, he cautiously stepped closer towards him, thankful that Squall was no longer dashing about. Only inches in front of his back, Irvine prepared the trigger, ready to fire, until Squall jumped at him.

Too light and weak to actually knock him down, Irvine remained standing while he was being violently shaken by the collar of his shirt, as well as abashed by how well he was able to sense him and grab hold of his shirt collar.

"Don't let them take me back!" Squall demanded shakily. "Don't let them get me!"

His out burst caught on in surprise. "Woah, whoah! Let what get you?" Irvine stammered. Then he heard it, the sound of a motor heading straight for them. Hearing it as well, Quistis got her whip out, making sure that if Seifer wanted a fight, he would be pleased.

But the sound stopped, all went quiet. No insects chirped, no brushes whistled, and no bats screeched, not even the monsters could be heard. Squall did not let go of Irvine. He heard something.

"_BEHIND YOU!"_ Someone shouted.

With the weight he still had, he pulled himself and Irvine downward just as the first bullet fired right past them. Whether it was Cloak or Strychnine who warned him, he could not tell. Three men and one woman came out of the brush. The men were wearing dingy khaki clothes, one had a vest and another wore camouflage makeup, and each of them had a shotgun. The woman had the most suspicious white hair, and wore a long white smock. It was no secret that she was from the institute and lead the bounty hunters flanking her. It was also no secret that she was the woman Tergo had stabbed in the back. Quistis and Irvine stopped momentarily at the white headed apparition Tergo seemingly killed.

The doctor shot out an order in New Galbadian, and the bounty hunters fired. Well aware of their implications, Irvine and Quistis were able to dodge the first wave. The bounty hunters fired as if they were aiming at wild sloths, an indication that they were new to the field!

_Damn! Tergo was telling the truth. They do want us dead!_ Irvine thought, ducking behind a bush of ferns, He fired a more professional shot at the bounty hunter with the makeup, right in the head. He was expecting a small spill of blood from the shot wound, only to see a green-feathered dart stick out. The bounty hunter slumped limply, but still alive, to the tropical floor. His other two comrades noticed, zeroing Irvine out with radar sense so fast, he hadn't any time to switch his gun off 'dart' to 'shot'.

Aiming for him, Irvine made the responsive move by shielding himself with his hands. He waited for an inevitable surge of lead, but the inevitable did not approach. The two had neglected Quistis, who bludgeoned them from behind with her chain whip. They flopped forward, unconscious.

Irvine looked at the fallen bounty hunters with a wry sense of irony. "Well, that wasn't too hard."

Quistis nearly began her comeback to his remark, until she heard the scream. It was an attention scream, more to call then to warn. She snapped around, gapping in horrid negligence. So caught up in dealing with the actual guns, they neglected the albino doctor, and Squall. Now, she was trying desperately to subdue him with a syringe she hopped was filled with anaesthesa.

She had his wrists pinned firmly against a sequoia, but that didn't stop him from kicking. Though he couldn't kick hard enough to hurt anything, it was annoying enough for the doctor. Quistis snuck up to her, hitting her over the head with her whip. Primarily, she wanted to knock her out, then ask questions when she came to, but that did not happen. Instead, something came off, a wig of white hair! Now separate from its head and lying on the ground, the hair looked unbelievably synthetic.

Irvine commented about the fallen item. "Wow, they don't make wigs the way they used to." He looked over at Quistis and the startled doctor, and both of them shrieked with uneasy surprise. The scalp of the doctor was riddled with wires and metallic patches.

Still pinned to the tree, Squall stood unphased by everything, unable to see the doctor, he could not see the mechanical mess on her head. Cloak made many things clear to him to expect such.

"_They're all around us! They want the treasure too. 'Sept they don't have a coupon. SHOW THEM HOW TO REALLY FIGHT!"_

In a swift move, Squall shoved the doctor in her stomach with his feet. Not expecting the move, she let him go impulsively, stumbling backwards. Like a raging wolf, Quistis moved in and began to pummel the wire headed woman. A few snaps and a couple of cracks later, the doctor was dead, bleeding and broken. At first, Quistis had expected a robot, probably an illegal import from Esthar. But, as she hacked away, it was clear that she was mainly organic, only her spine, skullcap, and torso were mechanical. Wires twisted at the most unreasonable angles, giving the whole cyborg a very unprofessional look, as if she was made by incompetence, or, just a rough draft.

Irvine came up beside her to inspect the mess. "Where the hell did she, like, come from anyway?"

"Esthar, maybe." She answered, cringing from the smell. Obviously, she would rot as well as any other body.

"Esthar?" He asked skeptically. "I admit I don't, like, know a lot about cyborgs, but that look's like a half-ass job of a cyborg. I don't think Esthar would, like, pump out a crappy job like her."

"She's probably illegal or something. Didn't Tergo mention those people at the hospital were corrupt and aggressive?

"Probably." He suggested half-heartedly. "What say you, Squall?" He turned around to find no one behind him. Squall had run away again.


	14. Perish

14

Perish

Trudging past bush and brier, Seifer and his posse edged towards the best possible direction that they thought the others had gone. Raijin held a flashlight they had scavenged from the wrecked jeep in front of them to light their way. It was he who found the same patch of quicksand Squall had gotten stuck in. Only, unlike what Irvine found, they happened to have come onto the other side, the side where the moomba had pulled him out.

"Yo, Seifer, check this out." He started happily, pointing the flashlight away from the mud and at Seifer's face.

He held his hand up to shield his eyes. "Put that flashlight down, ya dope!" Raijin did as he was told. "I can see much better if you aim that thing _towards_ what you found, and not me!"

"Oh, okay." He absently waved, aiming the beam of light downwards to the bank of the muddy pond. All three crouched down to see it closer.

A trail of mud led out of the quicksand, fallowed by drag marks and odd mammalian footprints. A bit further down, they could make out human footprints.

"MONSTERS?" Fujin asked.

"Yeah," Raijin agreed, "and they pulled a free meal out of the mud, ya know."

Seifer gave them both a critical look. "And just what monster has these kinds of prints?"

They both shrugged. "A wendigo?" Suggested Raijin.

"Not a chance! If you'd have scrapped as many wendigoes as I have, you would know that the soles of their feet are more round, and less triangle."

Fujin questioned him about wendigoes. "HOW MANY?"

Seifer stood silent for a second. "…None. You're point?"

"MY POINT…!"

"I think she's referring to that big winged snake thing, ya know."

"Raijin, that thing didn't even have any feet."

"MORE KINDS!"

"Yeah, Seifer, what if there are other kinds of monsters we don't know about here, ya know."

"Well then," he began, "why don't we fallow these prints and find out."

Raijin and Fujin didn't object. It was a better idea then their first one.

Seifer started down the path, then stopped, turning around to face the other two. "Hey, Raijin! Get up in front here and keep the flashlight ahead of us."

§

The moombas were quite gentle with him, and they did not frighten Squall. He had been near them a few times, knew that they were not but higher forms of Shumi. He had no reason to be afraid, and Cloak did not push the matter.

Two of them led him by the hands, cupping their giant paws over his wrists, with each one in turn squeaking out the words he had heard them sputter before: Laguna. He still hadn't a clue what they meant by the use of the Estharian Prime Minister's name, though the moombas seemed very exited to see him. As for himself, he hobbled along as best he could, stumbling a few times, each time having the moombas help him to his feet.

Squall didn't have much concept of time at the moment. The moombas dragged him by trunk and bush for an unknown period of time. Only the rhythmic tune of the tropical crickets aided in any sense of the moment

After a ways of being dragged, the moombas let go of his hands, allowing him to walk freely. Not really knowing what was in front of him, he didn't. Instead, he fell to his knees, weary and cold, his hands supported him as he leaned forward, breathing heavily from the relentless march, and feeling the vibrant sting in his right shin grow wild like climbing ivy. Already, it was up to mid-thigh.

_How long will it be now before this leg falls off itself?_ He wondered.

The moombas left his side, only to come back with a handful of Shumi, each one wore the same green robe with blue collars. The creature's yellow faces looked solemn as they looked at each other, the moombas continuing to chant the name of Laguna over and over. The Shumi spoke to the moombas in their native tongue, a language he did not know, though, he did know that they were quiet fluent in Dollet, a language he did know.

In turn, the Shumi approached him. Hearing them come forward, Squall was afraid.

"_It's an unfriendly congregation,"_ started Cloak, "_They mean you harm. Why else would the moombas choose to force you here?"_

Squall stumbled as he backed up. He spoke sternly to them in Dollet. "_Nelle'ise m'sett lien imette!_" Stay away from me!

The Shumi stopped their advancing. One of them looked empathetically down at the mud caked boy who had fallen on the ground. "We mean you no harm." She told him.

Cloak hissed at her words. "_Lies, they are!"_

Squall backed up further until his back was at the base of a tree. The Shumi moved forward again, surrounding him at all sides. As one of them held out their hand, Squall huddled as close to the tree as he could, covering his head with his hands and shaking in cold raw fear for his life.

Tenderly, a Shumi put his hand on his trembling shoulder. Squall lifted his hands away from his head, giveing his situation a more reasonable though, what visions he had concocted at first had decayed, they no longer appeared as a threat.

Cloak didn't give in that easily. "_You know what? I think they pity you. Is that really what you want?!"_

The notice had an impact, and he felt reluctant. Then he heard Strychnine.

"_Who are these people?"_

_People…?_ The word sounded quite foreign, but not at all inappropriate. They were Shumi, a different kind of people then what he was used to. _People…? These are Shumi._

As he told Strychnine so, he also reminded himself as well. All power Cloak had held momentarily dropped, and he let the Shumi lead him by his hand to their camp.

It was an amazing sight to any who could see. So many Shumi and Moomba were crowded together by placements of violet, brown, and green tents, and several large pieces of machinery that would have been hard to categorize. Each one covered in various coloured orbs that shone radiantly with power, and the shiniest coats of metal ever seen in an assortment of colours. Some of the Shumi wore the same robes of green and blue, but others; wore robes of brown with black collars, and some had on navy robes with white collars. Why was it there actually were so many Shumi and Moomba, so far from Trabia? Squall had gotten the picture that they did not leave their villages often. It probably had something to do with the machines he could hear buzzing and whirring all around him. They were probably excavating something, something they could not excavate on their home turf.

Many of them that came by gave him sour and suspicious looks at the blind human. He could only guess as much, he remembered what he had heard.

_Most of us don't have a good impression of the outside world._ One had said to him when he was at the Shumi village on Winter Island, only a while ago.

One of the brown robed Shumi spoke sternly from beside a violet tent. "_Shumi Mudombu! Undyu ebnä nyana tä human?!_" Shumi of Winter! Why did you bring here a human?!

Several others quirked in reply, demanding a reason. Those who didn't say anything, wore the green robes. The Shumi he had met on Winter Island wore green and blue robes as well, and from that reaction, they where those green robed Shumi that same he had met, the other colours were from different villages. Astonishing to know, as it was concluded that there was only one Shumi village. The outburst before him gave way to the fact that there were more Shumi and Moomba then any human being would know.

In his defense, a Moomba, not a Shumi, came up to him and started chittering, waving its huge paws around and motioning the mud that had dried all over him.

A Shumi woman translated the Moomba's interpretation. "_Kamu a Moomba, Bongon fëkë talann wasubë sebebin._" This Moomba, she found him stuck in quicksand.

"_I'lla moa ranaki!_" It makes no difference! A navy robed Shumi defended. "_Tabu'a mandu ginbandä na úmo!_" He could be swimming with disease!

Squall suddenly felt queasy, and fell down on one knee while a Winter Shumi held him up. The same Moomba that spoke before spoke again, only with a more frantic attitude. All Shumi stood quiet and still as it squeaked. It came up in front of Squall, reaching for his wounded shin. He squirmed a bit as he felt the Moomba pull up the muddy cuff to his knee, licking its paw, then rubbed off the grime to reveal Griever's bite mark, its siliva stinging the sensitive wound. It was faintly glowing gold, and noticeably infected.

Every single Shumi present gasped in awe. Those that did speak murmured in quizzical whispers.

Strychnine was curious of the whole event. "_What are they doing?"_

_I don't know._ It was all he could tell her before he passed out from his own nauseous feeling.

§

"Hey! Raijin!" Bellowed Seifer. "What the hell are you doing with that flashlight now?! I told you to keep it up in front!"

"Yeah," Raijin began to defend as he was pointing the beam of light into the thicket behind them, "it's just that, these bushes are moving, ya know."

Seifer grumbled in frustration as Fujin stood by, not really surprised.

Raijin continued. "I think there's something there, ya know."

"Something there?!" Shouted an exasperated Seifer. "Let me see." He wandered into the brush where Raijin pointed.

Both him and Fujin looked at each other, hoping it wasn't another one of those ampheteres, or possibly, something much nastier.

A few seconds later, they heard his voice reaching out of the darkness.

"Why, what have we got here? Oh, hello…my…you look quite angry. Did I interrupt something…I did, didn't I… Okay, so, I'll be leaving you…good day…RUN FOR IT!!!" Just at that moment, he shot out from behind the greenery, with an angry bird-like monster; the cockatrice, running after him, its glossy reptilic tail flopping around behind it as it charged.

Both Raijin and Fujin fallowed, knowing that Seifer would need some help getting that bird off his back.

§

Squall awoke in one of the Shumi tents, wrapped in several layers of blankets and lying on a mat. He extended a hand out from under the covers to feel around the small area, but all he could feel was tarp. His neck had gone stiff, and ached to be moved. The walls around him were basically lined with short wooden shelves filled with various vials of orange, violet, cyan, and lime green. Some were triangle, some were circular, some were square or rectangle, and some came in very organic shapes.

Gaining his strength, he propped himself up by his elbow. He felt cleaner, less grimey, and knew that he had been washed, and feeling that his negligence for food for the past thirty eight hours was taking a toll on him. The Shumi had removed his identification bracelet, as well as the hospital garb. The air around him suddenly felt chilled, and he was forced back into the protective covering of the blankets.

He took the time to remember clearly another dream he had. He was a little goldfish, swimming up a pipeline, literally, up. Several huge nicks had been taken out of the side, and he could see out of the pipeline. It was above the water, yet no water escaped the confines of the pipe. He gazed out upon a crystal clear lake, with a sewage refinery mixed with a town on the other side. He could clearly make out the lights of streetlamps on the other side of the refinery pipes, alighting themselves as dusk fell down all around. He kept swimming up the pipe, until it leveled out. On that leveled area, he saw a book. A big book. Bigger then himself. Its cover was red and pealing, but not from the erosion of water. With an orange fin, he had opened the book, scanning over each yellowed page. The words, he merely glanced over, but he read them all: Perish, destiny, bloody hood, purgatory, all gone, guilt, putrid maggots, death, resurrection… And on the last few pages, over and over again, were the same pictures of Cloak, all of them, looking directly at him. That was when he had awoken.

Into the tent came a Winter Shumi. In her hands, she carried a folded green cloth, the same green as her robe. Squall had his back to her, but he could hear her come in. As she came around in front of him, Squall lifted his head, but more to hear then to see. The Shumi woman set the green cloth down on a mat and looked over at him.

She spoke in Dollet to him. "Awake so soon? Healer thought it would be many more minutes."

Squall wasn't so sure how to answer, but he did. "How…how long was I out?"

"Only about an hour or two. Healer has been keeping track."

_Healer?_ He asked himself. _Who's Healer? Oh, that's probably her name._ He let his head lay limply against the pillow he was provided, closing his eyes momentarily out of both recollection and weariness. When he was finished taking a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes again.

"I didn't think Shumi liked the outside world very much." He pointed out, hoping for no offense.

Healer didn't seem to take any. "We Shumi can move. Our villages can't."

_Meaning…_

"What's here that you can't get there?" He asked a bit shakily.

"You will know later." Assured Healer. "Right now, you need your rest."

"I want to know now!" Squall demanded forcefully, lifting himself up slightly. His hazy, blood-shot, blistered eyes looked very inhuman against his dark-rimmed eyes.

"No, you do not!" Responding with her own force, Healer firmly pushed him back down. "We can not have you walking around blindly in such ill condition. You may hurt yourself further."

"If you are referring to the incident with the quicksand…"

"You are blind, the jungle is thick. Anybody could have fallen in. But you have a wounded leg, and are physically weakened. It's best you stay here." With that, Healer left the tent, hoping Squall would take her advice. The words were heard, but he couldn't stand the thought of just lying around, knowing something was going on. Curiosity won over the better judgment of reason, and he had to see for himself what was happening around him, even if he couldn't litteraly see.

With great effort, he used his hands to lift himself up, stopping at a sitting position to breathe. The covers, he removed from his maimed leg, feeling around that Healer had wrapped his shin tightly in asilky gauze. With a shaking finger, he pressed the middle of the bandage. The wound beneath throbbed only slightly with annoying pain. He knew that the bite would never fully heal, but, at least now, it was a livable pain.

Around him, the air grew cold as before, and he remembered that he was naked. To have actually gotten up completely would have been extremely uncomfortable. But Healer had left that green cloth behind when she left. Squall felt around, took hold, and unfolded it. It was a Shumi robe, a bit bigger by all his recollection, then the normal robes the other Shumi wore.

§

A couple of Moomba had congregated just outside of the tent, speaking in their language of sounds and sign language.

Out of the tent, Squall limped forward, clad in a large Shumi robe, a rope of yellow rawhyde he used as a belt. The sleeves went down to his wrists, and the hems, to his shins. On his right leg, one could clearly see the teal gauze that dressed the bite wound. The Moomba took instant notice of him, chanting 'Laguna' as he came forward.

Healer, whom had not gone far from her post, noticed him as well. Responsibly, she rushed towards her patient, not very pleased at his breaking of her orders.

"Squall, why are you not resting inside?" She frantically asked in Dollet.

"I've never been good at fallowing doctor's orders." He fell forward as his right knee momentarily gave out. Healer caught him before he had the chance to flail his arms. "I'd like to know how you knew my name?" He asked her, regaining his balance.

"Elder knows of your name. He told us of you." She caught him again as he stumbled.

"So I did leave an impression. At least on the Winter Shumi."

Healer heard the repeated chanting of the Moomba behind her. "The Moomba seem to remember you as more."

A few of the orange furred critters ran off to another tent. They emerged only seconds later carrying a golden saber of some sort. One of the Moomba pointed at him when they spoke 'Laguna'. Healer looked as puzzled as Squall, at their behavior.

She tried to reconcile with them. "But, he is not Laguna, he is a different person."

The Moomba shook their heads. "No. Laguna." The words were choked and strained, as the Moomba were not made to communicate verbally. To get the point across, one of the Moomba came up to Healer and performed a pantomime. It looked as if it were trying to mime a plant growing. Healer watched intently, reading each movement with the ease of that of a book. Squall just stood their, thinking: _what the freakn' hell is going on?_

"_Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!"_ Cloak started up, "_I know what it's saying!"_

"Then tell me!" He demanded of her, not getting any strange looks in the process.

"_If I told you, how would that be funny?"_

"How is it funny that I don't know?"

"_Hey, I'm up here in your subconscious. The effects of confusion make me laugh. OKAY!"_

The Moomba lowered its arms, signaling the end of its pantomime. Healer gave a sigh of shock and amazement as she turned away from it and back to Squall.

"My, my." She began. "You are most fortunate Squall."

"How?" He asked skeptically. "Fortunate that this bite wound will kill me, or fortunate that no other Shumi will scrap me in my sleep."

"Oh, I don't think you're going to die anytime soon. But, the Moomba have reason to believe that you are Laguna's son."

§

Quistis was at the wheel of the jeep, not looking forward to telling everyone that Squall had been buried alive in the middle of nowhere. The monitor, set in between her and Irvine was still going, then, she began to realize something. The thought sounded like bullets ringing around her head.

Stepping on the breaks, the jeep came to a sudden and rough halt. Irvine was slammed into the windshield, leaving behind a greasy face print where his cheek had brushed up with the glass.

He looked sternly over at Quistis. "Don't tell me we're stuck in something, too."

She ignored him and picked up the monitor. "The monitor, it's picking up a signal right in this forest."

"So, I thought you said Squall's tracking thingy was, like, busted. Not like it'll be movin' anytime soon."

"It is, but who else have we met here?"

He took a few seconds to answer. "…A funguar?"

"No! Seifer! He was one of Garden's first students. I know for a fact that he has one of those tracers. And he's showing up in red on this thing." She pointed to the small screen as she shoved it in Irvine's face.

He looked at her awkwardly as he questioned with obvious fear. "Dear Hyne, what are you thinking?"

"We're going to track Seifer down." She set the monitor on the seat once more, and put her hands back on the wheal.

"Why? What do we have to gain from going after that guy and his gang of mismatched goons?"

"I don't trust Seifer to be on his own." She finished plainly enough. Gunning the gas pedal. Quistis made a swift U-turn, nearly throwing Irvine out of the jeep in the process.

"Damn!" He shouted, trying to keep his hat from being blown away. "Are all you Garden people, like, psychos behind the wheal?"

"Pretty much so." She answered calmly. "Though, I'm pretty tame compared to most."

§

What astonishing news had befallen him, to learn that his father was the same rock head with the two left feet he had come to insult, and rather enjoy doing so behind his back, and the same man who sent him on a suicide mission. He had come out of that mission alive, but still…

_What odd and twisted humour fate has._ Thought Squall. _By all the faeries, and all the angels. Good, Great, God Hyne. The irony burns like the core of a nuclear reactor. If coincidence had a mouth to laugh, it would be laughing so hard, it would choke on its guffaws._

But, all he could croak was: "Woah."

"Healer agrees." Spoke Healer. "Sir Laguna never spoke of a son, or a daughter. Though, it was seventeen years ago, and he did mention a spouse. He must not have known he had sired when he left to find the Ellone child."

_Who cares. I have a daddy now. I'm no longer a freakn' orphan._ He would have smiled if his body wasn't telling him: '_smile, and you'll pull a muscle."_

The Moomba carrying the sabre approached him, one tugged on his robe to get his attention. Squall bent down to inspect the object by feel alone. It was a gunblade. The blade's hilt was composed of spruce reinforced with brass, with cryptic Shumi glyphs carved into the wood. A pendent of opal, carved in the likeness of a sturgeon, hung from the very handle by a metal chain, and the blade looked as gold, and was molded into the shape of a bat's wing. It looked too ornate for a weapon.

Squall gripped the wooden and metal handle of the gunblade, lifting it up and away from the Moomba. But, no sooner did he lift the weapon up, the weight of it pulled him down.

As not to abide by any of Healer's help again, he used the same gunblade that made him fall, as a cane to get up.

_Well, if I can't use it as a weapon, I can use it as a very complex walking stick._

He addressed Healer without turning. "The first time I came to your village, I wasn't under the impression you made weapons."

"And that is what we Shumi want you to think." Started Healer with a bit of pride. "But, for one to make peace, you must prepare for war. It is common knowledge among us. But us Shumi did not make that gunblade, the Moomba did."

He wasn't under the impression that the Moomba did metal work either. Then again, the fact that the Shumi could do wonders with stones and metals would mean that the Moomba would have surpassed skills at such tasks, and he wondered if the gunblade he held _could_ be used as an effective weapon.

He moved his fingers over the glyphs. They were oddly alien to him, not a bit recognizable. Though he could, however, feel a strange glowing power emitting from them like radio waves, a sort of deep magic that only the Moomba were capable of taming. Again, he thought about his new found knowledge, about his new found parent. By its presence, the golden gunblade seemed to have ended his old life, stopped his meaningless search for roots. It was just that simple.

The golden blade shone in the artificial light the Shumi camp provided. There was only one word that would fit such a weapon, only one name. Perish.


	15. Soup of Shumi

15

Soup of Shumi

Esthar City, unlike Deling, did sleep, at least most of it did. The Parliment palace was still up...well, most of it. Prime Minister Laguna Loire had given up trying to file whatever files he was given and decided to check out late night TV. Ellone had gotten hold of a large tin can filled with building blocks and headed towards the den with them. She had found the can in the basement with several other metal containers. Also, She found it amazing for what kind of junk was placed down there, as if it was never cleaned.

Entering the well-lit den, with its red rug, several leather couches, and a titanic screen TV built into the wall, Ellone spilled the tin can's contents down on the center of the rug. The blocks weren't wooden, but plastic, nearly transparent, another unusual parody of Estharian crafts. Each one had two different colours on it, and, holding them up to the triskelon chandelier, they refracted the light like glass. Four sides of each cube held either an Estharian number or letter, the other two had a cameo of an animal. But one block, an orange with red lining and lettering, had for a cameo a Gayla, and a Mesmerize, not animals, but monsters. Strange it was, as it was not considered appropriate to put the pictures of monsters on children's toys.

Laguna was also in the den, sitting on the giant blue and green leather couch, channel surfing all two thousand and thirty channels they got.

Picking up a green and blue block, Ellone examined the pictures etched onto it. The numerals and letters it contained were: one, three, and the letters for A, and C, with the cameos of a snail, and a butterfly. She let the block drop from her hands. Landing in the middle of the plastic pile. Staring intently at the object she had just let go, the block began to twitch. It rolled once, and was off the ground, floating up of no physical reason. Ellone followed the block with her eyes as it ascended as far as her head. Laguna had finally stopped on a channel he liked, an apparent comedy. His laughing broke Ellone's concentration, and the block fell down again.

"You're finished your work already, Uncle Laguna?" Ellone asked turning her head towards him, a bit annoyed that she had lost her concentration on the block.

"I can't recall ven I started." He answered back, not turning his head away from the TV. "All I can remember is a deathload of computer crap and one leaky pen."

"You know, I think those files are for that new lab they're working on."

Laguna finally turned away from the TV for a second. "You mean sat Moon Stream Enterprise thingy?"

"Yeah, I think that's the one. So…how's that coming along?"

"All I know," he started, turning back to the TV, "is sat I gave sem se green light personally, yet sey still insist on going srough se red tape."

"Bet that sucks." Ellone quipped sarcastically.

"Damn right it does!" Laguna stared at the TV for a few more seconds before he turned it off. "Sat show blew anyway. I'm goinna go to bed early."

"It's 22:00 hours."

Laguna looked like he didn't know what she was saying. "Vat does sat mean?"

"Well, isn't 22:00 hours considered late?"

"Not for me." He smiled devilishly. "Vi are you up?"

"Uncle Laguna, you know I can't get to sleep until, at least, twenty four hours."

He scratched his head as he tried to remember. "Oh yeah." He then, saw the pile of plastic blocks on the floor.

"Oh, vow!" Laguna bent down on his knees to inspect the shiny trinkets. "Estharian toys are so cool! Vere did you find sem Elle?"

"The basement."

He mumbled another 'cool' to himself, and picked up one the other blocks. It was a yellow and purple one with the numerals five and seven, the letters for R, and Sh, and the cameos of a crocodile, and a mog. He let the cube rest on his open palm as it twitched, then floated upwards. Laguna smiled like a child who had just discovered how to use a can opener as he looked at the block, floating up towards the ceiling.

"Show off." Ellone teased, having Laguna chuckle at her comment.

§

It had taken long enough to get the cockatrice off of their hands, now Seifer was afraid the tracks they had fallowed were getting cold. Fujin had retraced their steps rather well, a peeking talent of hers to retrace any steps. They did find the trail again, with Seifer taking the lead, holding the flashlight as opposed to Raijin. It had probably taken only an hour or so to find the trail, and already, some other animal tracks were eclipsing the first, threatening to bring them off their path, but Seifer was determined to find this odd monster, just so he could tell Raijin to his face that he was an idiot.

He found something. The beam of the flashlight had caught sight of a yellow-headed beast wearing a long, thick robe of brown with a wooly black collar, its back was turned to them. The head of the creature was wrinkled, somewhat sagging, and bald of any hair.

As it sensed them, with its back turned towards them, it turned its head to see for itself what it was. The eyes of the creature were beady, and small.

All three of them gave a scowl of disgust, but only Seifer spoke. "That is one ugly kid."

The bushes all around them rustled violently, with whole hosts of the same yellow faced, robed creatures popping out all around them, brandishing what were easily recognizable as guns. The Shumi were not about to take intrusion lightly.

§

They were marched along through the jungle with the Shumi still pointing their guns at the backs of Seifer, Raijin and Fujin.

"What did we do, ya know?" Asked Raijin with little understanding of their situation.

"That's just it," Seifer whined back. "I don't know!"

From the front of their line, Fujin bellowed. "CAUTIOUS! INTRUDERS!"

The statement caught Raijin off guard, and he looked around him with anxiety. "Intruders?! Where?" A Shumi hit him in the shin with the butt of its gun to shut him up.

Seifer shouted at his transgression. "You rock head! We're the intruders!" It was Seifer's turn to get whacked in the shin by a Shumi gun.

§

Squall sat on an upturned mineral bin, his palms lay on the barrel of Perish, with his chin resting on top. He looked forward, actually looked, towards the reason why the Shumi had come to Galbadia. What he couldn't see were everal Shumi and Moomba hurried alongside two great pillars of cobalt, each standing three stories high with five bands of green lights ringing each one. What he could see though, was in between these spires: a great tear in space that he could make out as a soft cyan halo, decreasing to blue, to purple, and finally to black in the middle.

The tear itself was nine meters wide, and five meters tall, and almond shaped. It shone an infinite white that almost looked blue if one stared at it too long. Along the edges of the spacial tear, tattered remains of colour and form lingered like the torn threads of cloth, waving and bobbing around, but always into the tear, as if they were being sucked in.

He could hear Cloak tear around his own space and time, her blackness almost ringing the true tear in front of him. She hissed and sputtered each time he blinked, but when his eyes opened, he could have sworn she was laughing.

"_It's beautiful."_ She cooed slyly.

"It is." Squall spoke back.

Offended, she hissed back at him. "_Shut up! I wasn't asking for your opinion!"_

"You never do."

"_Zip it! You wouldn't know true beauty if it caused you to go blind!"_

"I wish it did cause me to go blind."

"_You want to know beauty?! DO YOU?! Then get up there and take a look at that tear up close!"_

"Is that a dare?"

"_DO IT!"_

"No!"

"_DO IT! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT…!"_

Squall protested as far as he could, but Cloak would not give up the fight. Before he knew it, he was standing up, leaning on Perish for support as he limped forward. Some Shumi and Moomba were reluctant to let him pass by, but moved anyway.

Standing further away, looking over at him, were Healer, and another Shumi by the moniker of Persistent Mechanic, known in their tongue as Mëkimu Tohigá.

Mëkimu looked especially at the gunblade he was limping on. "How unusual." He responded. "He was not carrying that weapon when he came here?"


	16. Liver Fluke

16

Liver Fluke

That morning, Edea Kramer entered the Balamb Garden, at the time positioned further south of the Monterosa/Yaulny jungle. She was greated by Sika Dooglas at the entrance.

"Good morning to you." She greated in good Alcauldian. "May I take it you are Cid Kramer's vidow?"

"Yes I am." Answered Edea, any trace of emotion gone from her voice. "I am here on a very important prospect. I'm here to collect his gunblade."

"Gunblade? I vasn't avare dat Headmaster Kramer vas trained in veaponry."

"Oh, indeed. Many probably wouldn't know, what with the desk job. But I would like that weapon. Do you know where I can find Squall Leonhart's dorm?"

"Not really." Sika answered with genuine regret. "I never really knew dat student vell. But I bet dere are plenty uders hoo know exactly vere it is. Dere shouldn't be shortage of dat."

Though dissapointed, she didn't have to fret. Edea knew others who would lend her the information she had. "Thank you." She said to Sika one last time before she wondered away to the direction of the library.

"Excuse me." She started towards a male candidate in Alcauldian. The student looked at her, but he could not speak much Alcauldian. Brokk looked at the woman as if he was seeing the Mighty Hyne in person.

"Could you tell me where Squall Leonhart's dorm is." Continued she, still getting a blank stare.

"_Arn smill kee Alcauldian._" He stuttered out, a little reluctant at seeing the strange woman.

"Oh." She knew Classical Galbadian, close enough to his Wayside Galbadian. "I'm looking for Squall Leonhart's room."

"Sure can." Brokk agread straight away. "Um, can I ask for a name?"

"I'm Edea Kramer." She answered. "I'm your Headmaster's widow."

Abondoning what he was doing, he led Edea to the dorms with an uneasy smile. He still remembered where that boardered up dorm still was. For some reason, Edea was not surprised to see the door do the room boardered up with yellow tape and plywood.

"To get in there," explained Brokk, "someone had to bust the lock. The door doesn't realy close very well now, so we just boardered it up. Hope you find what you want Ms. Kramer, it's pretty lifeless in there now." He left her to her buisness.

For her, there was very little work that she needed to do to get the boards and tape away from the entrance. The morning sun was at the perfect angle to flood past the shuttered windows. Leaning on the wooden desk that Squall once used read and plot revenge, was a long, thin black box: the box that held his gunblade.

Edea, kneeling on one knee, looked entently on the silver emblem pasted onto the front of the box. The head of a lion, it was, forzen in the position of roaring, with the main drooping down to form the a shape of a pointed cross. This emblem, her family crest, she knew as 'The Last God'. There was an interesting story behind, but she doubted Cid had told Squall any of it.

Grabbing ahold of the box, the lowered it to the ground, nearly dropping it because of it was suprisingly heavy. Opening it up to reveal its contents. she ran her hand over the smooth metal of the gunblade. The a winged lion was carved into it hear the barrel, a similar symbol to The Last God crest. The gunblade had been passed down in their family for three generations. Since Cid and Edea had no child of their own, they handed this priceless weapon down to Squall. If Cid had mentioned any of that to Squall, she would have know, but she didn't think that he did.

That gunblade, she had come to claim, so she could take it back with her to Balamb and throw it into the fires of the Fire Cavern, along with the ashes of her beloved husband. In Alcauldian lore, it as believed that the only way for anyone to get to Heaven, was to go through Hell; five gates to be precise: the gate of fire, the gate of ice, the gate of acid, the gate of steal, and the gate of chaos. The lava in the Fire Cavern and all its adjecent volcanoes, were believed to be the direct entrance into Hell and the first gate. So, the dead were thrown there, along with their weapons to defend themselves from any demons and unspoken evils that their trials hurled at them. If they were not strong enough to get through the trials, they were doomed to remain in Hell. Edea kept Cid at her side, untill she could obtain The Last God gunblade, and send him on his way.

But, as she looked over the fine tool, she didn't know what she was to do. The gunblade was no longer Cid's, it was Squall's.

_Squall may not need this now, but he is not dead. He will need this to succeed in his trails and find eternal peace. But so does Cid..._

She closed the lid over the blade. Her discission was made. She would not send Cid off just yet. If Squall ever returned, he would want his blade back. If he died, then he would be sent off with Cid and the gunblade that belonged to them both at one time. She knew Cid wouldn't mind, he wouldn't be waiting forever.

§

The world was black, the world was white, but through the walls, could shine no light.

Squall couldn't recall what had happened, or what was going to happen. He stood, stiffly erect in a colourless room. At each of his sides, was a painter, virtually identical, wearing the same grey overalls. The painter to his right was painting a white room black, and he had no left arm. The painter to his left was painting a black room white, and had no head. Only an oily grey creek separated the line where the black and white merged. Squall stood in this creek, ankle deep in the stagnant residue. As he looked down, he saw he was clad in his usual attire, but his white shirt, and white collar, were dyed the strongest red. On his left cheek, was a third eye, closed and bruised. His pendent hung limply around his neck, but was distorted in ripples, even though the creek itself was not rippling.

As soon as he looked up from the brook, the room around him was gone. All was black again.

Stepping forward, he heard the familiar 'plink, plink' that one would hear if they were to walk on glass. Underneath him had appeared a giant hexagonal clock. The face was a bright red with no numbers, with a second hand, a minute hand, an hour hand, and a mysterious fourth hand that outstretched the clock face. That fourth hand was the only one staying put, the rest moved at visible paces. Strangely, the hour hand was moving faster then the second hand, and the minute hand was moving at an awkward, out of rhythm pace.

As if he knew what to do, Squall grabbed the still, fourth hand. His fingers reached for it as if there was no glass in the way. Taking the hand, he forced it erect, with the other three hands stopping as it was stood upwards. Squall took the hour hand and moved it, also taking the minute hand and moving it. On a twelve-hour clock, if the two hands then, would have read 1:47. To the second hand, he snapped off like a brittle twig. He held the black hand like a spear, gazing down solemnly at his reflection. The third eye was gone, but he wasn't holding anything in the mirror image.

Squall stood in the middle of a nursery. The carpet was an earthy grey, while the walls were a creamy yellow. There was a single window at his right, curtainless by all means. The light outside shone as evening. There were no toys, no books or bookshelves to be seen, the room was completely empty except for a simple white crib, and a rocking chair. Someone was sitting in the chair, unmoving, only looking at the crib before him. The late Headmaster Cid, it was. Squall also knew who the tiny occupant was in the crib, but he did not speak of it. He stood where he was, dripping with stagnant blood, a grim reminder of what he had done.

He looked back down at the face of the clock. The red was now rippling; his reflection, distorted, but he could tell his skin had taken on a green tinge. Squall looked forward, back at the black chaos before him. A strange, cold, draining sensation was felt all over him, but he did not have to turn around to know that Cloak was behind him.

He heard her hiss:

_Fjalsnid bríþnor il krânskirdi,_  
To space besiege the secret window,  
_Ilsnæ, vundir fléd._  
To time, collectively a slave.  
_Graki envrin fledsvak brüki;_  
Darkness shall always be so;  
_Ekross vrot esnâd._  
Friendship is only a myth.

Looking back down, he saw Cloak, her own reflection replacing his.

"They will only hurt you." She quirked, fangs barred as she appeared to snarl.

Squall was reluctant to ask. "Who will?"

"Everyone." Responded the reflection. "Words are pretty, but inane. Friendship, loyalty, love, they are only words used to describe a bonding of survival as old as the sea sponge."

"You're talking about instinct." He pointed out.

"And isn't instinct good for one thing: survival? We've grown so much since the days of prehistory, but everyone still insists that they need instinct. In truth, all anybody wants is to survive. Show them up, show them that you can survive without their help, Appalling Pace."

"All anyone wants is to survive." Squall repeated softly. "Everyone looks out for number one."

"Yesss." Cloak agreed. "Isn't it meaningless. Everyone is a backstabber, all in the name of survival. You don't need them Appalling Pace!"

"Who says?!" Barked Squall. "I don't want to be lonely."

The reflection hissed furiously. "Nasty instinct! Don't you see! They will all be gone one day! They will hurt you, and they won't feel bad for it! They're all scum out for their own ends. We can live without them."

"We? What was all that talk about survival and nasty instinct?"

"Hey, everyone needs someone to talk too. I'd make a better companion then everyone else. I know better then anyone else what you have been through, how you feel, what you really want, and so forth."

"Prove it!" He started back, his voice starting to shake.

Cloak did not reply.

He yelled again, quit close to tears. "PROVE IT CLOAK!"

The entity didn't respond verbaly. Her larynx moved upward, out of the reflection, seaming to grow out of the clock and through the glass. The end of it pricked his right shin, and he felt a sharp and sudden surge of pain. Cloak poked his shin again, and it still hurt. She kept poking it until something seamed to lift. He felt heavier, weaker, but the pain kept coming, and every time, he kept replying with 'ow'.

His own voice seamed to become louder, and more prominent as he regained consciousness.

With him laying on a couch, Fujin stood at the foot looking down at him, while Raijin continued to poke his sore shin with his finger, constantly getting an 'ow' every time he did so.

"DAMMIT RAIJIN!" He shouted, coming into full awareness. "THAT HURTS!"

"Well, you could have just told me nicely, ya know." He started, crossing his arms sternly, not at all shocked by Squall's quick revival.

"LONG HIKE!" Began Fujin. "NEVER CAME TO ONCE!"

"Yeah," Explained Raijin. "We ran all the way from those yellow things all the way here, ya know. Can't recall how long it took, though. But you didn't even stir once, ya know."

"Wow, I deserve a medal." Quirked Squall sarcastically.

"THESE THREE," pointed Fujin beside him, "FALLOWED US!"

Still laying on his back, he strained to listen for any other occupent. The least furry of the three Moomba squeaked with joy as he should know they were there.

Raijin started again. "We don't know what they want, ya know. We just know they helped us get away."

"This place is cold." Started Squall, staring forward at the cieling.

"NO WALL!" She pointed towards the hanging blankets.

"Can I have a blanket?"

"NO! USING THEM ALL!" If it wasn't clear to her at the Shumi encampment, it had become clear to her then. Squall's eyes were milky.

"BLIND?"

"Really?" Squall started in mock surprise. "All this time, I was wondering why I couldn't see anything. Thank you for your fucking observation!"

"DON'T BITCH!"

"Whatever."

The taped, and rickety door to the room opened. Seifer strolled in, looking rather distraught and tired. The door fell off its taped hinges again, getting a very loud curse out of him. He stopped beside Fujin, looking down miserably at Squall.

"I went through a lot of trouble to bust you out of the mental cooler and get you here." He started exasperated. "Can't you give me a little gratitude?!"

"S'uuuup." Croaked Squall.

Seifer's face fell in a frown, he had been a fool to think he would get any gratitude from Squall. "Well," he began, looking a bit more optimistic, "at least I got this cool gunblade."

He held Perish up, fingering the delicate grooves of the blade.

He thought he heard the faint name of Perish being called, but he couldn't descern where it came from. Though, all at once, he knew what gunblade Seifer was holding.

"What the hell are you doing with Perish?!" He yelled, pointing angrily at the best direction he could at the blonde. Raijin took his hand and moved it untill it was pointing at a more accurate location.

"Perish," started Seifer, sounding dumbfounded, "is that what you call it. I was going to call it something else, but Perish is good enough." Of coarse, in their accent, 'Perish', would sound like 'Pairriss', but only Raijin had trouble understanding this.

Squall motioned to where he guess the three Moomba were. "These Moomba gave that gunblade to me, ass wipe!"

"Well, with a mouth like that, you won't be getting it back, butt munch."

"Then at least give me one of your blankets! It's freakin' freezing in here!"

"Fat chance, Psycho Sam! You're our hostage, and we're going to treat you so!" Seifer shouted.

"Hey!" Doug started from upstairs. "Shove it, will ya you three!"

"Shove it yourself!" Seifer yelled back.

"_And shove him!"_ Yelled Cloak.

Squall turned his head again as he began to talk to her. "On my own good time!"

"_You're not getting a better chance then this!"_

"You're not my boss!" All of a sudden, what Cloak said in his unconsciousness started to come back. The words were lost, but the general gist was back.

"_Then…LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT…!"_

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL YOU MEAN!"

Doug's angry voice came back. "What in Hyne's name are you three doing down there!"

Seifer started desperately to his posse in Alcauldian. "Shut him up. Now!"

Tackling him, Fujin and Raijin attempted to keep him still, but he wouldn't calm down.

"I said shut him up!" Seifer yelled again. "Not keep him still!"

Raijin put his hand over Squall's mouth, but Squall only bit it.

"_OW! Ja èsencho, na ill hyasib!_" Ow! The bugger bit me!

Seifer came in to help them, but their hostage ended up wriggling free, the Moomba fought back, but only to help Squall squirm away. He was pinned to the floor once Seifer jumped on his back. Squall wriggled some more, not forgetting to spit in his face. Even as Seifer let him go momentarily, Squall had enough time to get to the curtain of blankets. He stopped, when he nearly fell off the edge.

"_I'm back."_ He heard Strychnine squeak. He didn't have much time to think about what she said before three pairs of hands pulled him back inside.

He heard Cloak rant, "_Damn these morons! Damn them to Hell! You heard me! HOP TO IT!"_ In defense, Squall began to snap and writhe. The seven of them rolled over and over across the floor, Moomba included, as the two parties each, wrestled for dominance.

"_This is taking too long."_ Barged in Cloak. "_Let's get a time out here, then hit them when their backs are turned."_

As Squall stopped his struggling, the entire wrestling stopped, right under the big hole in the roof. Doug was sitting there. He had wondered what was going on below. He now saw them, three of them looked up with nervous surprise at him. But the fourth, a scraggly excuse for a human being, looked much more curious then the rest, glaring up with a mikly gaze. Then, there were the three orange cat things...

The guy yelled with all his rage. "ALMASY!!"

§

All sixteen of them, including Squall and the Moomba, sat in the den. The whole boarding house 'meeting' was called just moments after Doug blew his gasket.

"What gives?" Seifer started in Galbadian. "Whenever one of you guys have guest, no one gives a damn. But, as soon as I bring someone here, you have to 'discuss it'."

"That's because whenever we have guests," Doug shouted, "we don't hold wrestling matches and yell at the top of our lungs!"

"And they aren't transvestites." Opted Lila.

"It's not a dress!" Argued Squall. "It's a robe! The Shumi gave it to me!"

"Case closed." Berny stated. "Get rid of the loon."

"_Not until you get rid of him."_ Cloak ordered.

Once again, Squall turned his head away from the glares. "Not now."

"_Yes now!"_

"Make me!"

"_That ain't gonna help you Appalling Pace."_

"Since when was my name Appalling Pace?!"

"_What, would you rather I call you Butt Kiss?"_

"Bite me!"

"_Or how about: Rocky Stoner? Continuous Pissoff? Incredibly Void…?"_

From the back of the crowd, Burgeon piped up. "You know, I don't think he's talking to us."

"Well, DUH!" Doug cawed.

"…_Sir I'll-Watch-You-Like-a-Hawk-Because-I'm-a-Freakin'-Lunatic? Too many syllables?"_

"Go back to HELL!" Squall yelled uncontrollably, gagging on 'hell'.

"Seifer," Kia began, "what is this all about?"

"About?" He quipped. "This is my younger brother. Can't you see the resemblance?" Seifer grabbed Squall by the shoulder and held him up to show them. Squall ended up pushing him away. It had been good for him that he had the lie worked out since they were running away from the Shumi. "He just got out of the North Yaulny Hospital."

"I thought it was called the South Monterosa Hospital?" Questioned Ms. Hodges.

"It's close enough to the border to be called two things."

The Moomba came in, chanting: "Laguna, Laguna. We fff'nd."

"Shut up! You're not helping."

"And what are these darling little things?" The landlady began with a sweat smile, looking down at the Moomba.

"These?" Seifer tried to think of a believable lie. He didn't spend any time in creating an alibi for them. " These, are moombas. We know a few of them as family friends, they wanted to come along with us, you know, for the ride." That was so weak.

"I thought those things weren't native to Galbadia?" Burgeon pointed out.

_Alarm bells! Alarm bells!_ "They aren't. We just do a lot of traveling. And throughout our journeys, we've met some very interesting people."

Squall had come back to reality, and Cloak wasn't liking what Seifer was saying.

"_LIER! LIER! Hit him where it hurts Appaaaaaalling Paaaaace!"_

"He's not my brother!" He shouted back, standing up and glowering at random directions. "We aren't related in the least. We HATE each other! Isn't that right Raijin?"

"Yeah." He answered.

"Raijin!" Seifer snapped.

"I mean…no."

"Then how do you explain the little orange things?" Questioned Doug.

Squall gave a nasty look. "He treats those things like garbage! He doesn't care for them, he doesn't even know where they come from!"

"_Sklidir, Squall!_" That's enough, Squall Seifer shouted for a defense, hoping vainly that he would shut up.

"They came here because of ME!" He was now right in front of the opposing nine, his hands were outstretched in a clawed manner, as if he were about to rip there face off. "They only fallowed him hear because Almasy and his GOONS had ME!" Squall turned hastily away. "I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THESE LOSERS! I AM A SEED FROM BALAMB…!"

"Okay! Time for those brain drugs the doc prescribed!" Seifer shouted, wrapping his arms tightly around Squall's neck, causing him to gag on his words.

"I'm not so sure," Kia began, "but I don't think you're supposed to do that."

"It's called tough love." He explained. "We have a lot of it in the family."

§

"AND DON'T COME BACK UNTILL YOU GET RID OR YOUR KID BROTHER!!" Were Doug's last words before he slammed the back door too the Hodges Boarding House. The circumstances were simple: Seifer, Raijin, and Fujin, were considered evicted, until they got rid of both Squall, and the Moomba. All they were really given: their weapons, and the clothes on their backs.

With burning rage, Seifer turned to Squall, grabbing the collar of his robe staring venemously at his blistered eyes. "You just have to be a pain in the ass? Don't you?"

Squall didn't waver a bit. "Yes."

The elder shoved him into a brick wall, causing him to collapse onto the cement ally floor. The three Moomba ran to his side to help him up. As was expected, he refused their help, but did have a monumentous problem getting up by himself.

"WHAT NOW?" Fujin asked.

"Duh! We hide and wait. They're goinna be wanting back Rat Boy real fast."

"They don't want me back." Squall started, still sitting on the ground, flanked by the three Moomba.

"Who asked you?" Seifer hissed.

"I don't need your permission to speak."

"Watch it Leonhart, you're forgetting," he held Perish up in front of his face, "you're not armed, and we are."

"_I suppose that makes you a big man."_ Cloak laughed as he spoke, but only her host could hear it.

_Damn right!_ The venemous thought back.

"_Such a hypocrite."_ Scoffed Cloak. "_He only looks for a fight. He never fights them. And there's only one reason he wants to fight you."_

"You're right, he does fear me." He spoke in a harsh voice, turning his head as he addressed the hidden voice.

"Who the hell are you talkin' too Rat Boy?" Seifer asked displeasingly.

Squall's head was still turned away. "What leg…?"

"I asked you a question?!"

"Yes. I remember! I remember! You remember everything I've forgotten, and…"

"HEY LEONHART! You want me to lop off your head?"

Now, Squall abondoned Cloak to stare ahead, his face contorted into his 'powder' look, with the milky whites that were now jet-black. Seifer shuddered slightly.

"You want to kill me?" He rasped, getting on his knees, exposing his vulnerable throat. "Go ahead, try me. You won't get a lot of blood though, most of it's gone, aye yah."

As if to take the challenge serious, Seifer held the point of Perish right at the bulge of his Adam's Apple, and stopped. He stared back at his defenseless opponent as he stared ahead. He noted Squall was shaking, but he knew 'fear shakes' when he saw them, those weren't fear shakes, he was only shivering from cold, and it was at least a good fifteen degrees Celsius. He did not smile, nor gag. Seifer kept the point to his throat, neither receiving the satisfaction of control, nor knowing that Squall was toying with him. As always, Squall was emotionless, his glassed over eyes stretched open, staring blankly forward. It was worse then receiving his crooked smile.

_Smile, scream, chuckle…, beg for mercy dammit!_ Thought Seifer nervously. _Do something! Just don't stare like a dead zombie!_ The tension was getting to him. In his view there were, as such, two types of warriors: those who fought for the control, and those who fought for the pain. He always saw himself as the former. If he were to kill Squall, he would become the latter, and he did not like pain at all. He would be Squall: He Who Sought Pain, it was worse then the Dragon's Wrath.

Seifer let Perish down, Squall didn't change his expression one bit.

"Your blind, aren't you?" He spoke instead, his voice low and uncaring.

"Yes Seifer. Why don't you say that a bit louder so they can here you in the back."

"_Chicken."_ Cloak called him.

"I can kill you," explained Seifer, "but I think you're worth more alive."

"My head's not for sale." Squall growled.

"That depends. I need you so we can collect an appropriate sum from the North Yaulny."

"You mean you only wanted to get me out of there, hoping that they would offer a reward, possibly a gill sum, for anyone who can bring me back."

Seifer glared down at him fiendishly. "Well ain't you smart."

Remarkably, Squall giggled.

"What so funny, yeh yeh?"

His giggle grew from a chuckle to a raspy laugh. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard! You get rich quick by holding up a convenience store, or committing insurance fraud. Not by mussling someone for a reward! That's like worshipping the Devil and hoping you get into Heaven!"

One of the Moomba, the smallest of the trio, squeaked alongside him as if it, too, were laughing. The bigger of them gave the smaller a stern look that made it stop.

"Like I'm taking the advice of a mental patient." Seifer quipped, looking away towards Raijin and Fujin. "You two! Look after Rat Boy for me while I scrounge us up some wheels! Doubt he would go far when he doesn't even know where he is."

As Seifer turned to leave, Raijin had to ask: "Who's Rat Boy, ya…?" Before he finished, Fujin had kicked him in the shin. Scowling, Seifer left them to look for some transportation.

A Moomba, the largest of the three, approached Squall where he sat. They both looked curiously at each other, but it was the Moomba that spoke to him. It squeaked attentively while motioning towards itself with its huge paw. Taking hold of his hand, it put his palm to its chest. It was trying to tell him something, Squall knew it. Then, there was an unexpected 'pull' on his gut. He tried to stand up, but his legs kept collapsing underneath him, and he started to get dizzy.

_Aw, damn!_ Squall thought with agitation. _I thought I was over these withdrawal effects._

"_You have some new withdrawal effects now."_ Cloak began. "_Those attaracts are nasty!"_

_Goddammit! Well, at least I don't have to deal with Almasy._

Another Moomba, the slighter of the three, approached Squall. It squeaked and put a paw on his shoulder, as if it were trying to ask if he was all right.

"I'm fine." He lied. He attempted to get up again, but his legs wobbled too unsteadily for balance.

"HEY!" A voice boomed from above. It was Doug. "YOU STILL DOWN THERE?!"

Stunned and a bit embarrassed, Fujin attempted to grab Squall and move away, but he was gone. All she saw were two Moomba, sitting absently on the concrete, conversing with each other.

Unknown to them, the third Moomba, the slighter one, had hauled Squall up with its own impressive strength and led him out onto the sunlit street. There, it allowed him to sit on the wooden steps of the neighbouring apartment building. He breathed a few deep breaths, then, bowed his head in his queasiness.

The Moomba shook his shoulder again and squeaked compassionately.

"I feel like hell." Squall told it. "You happy now?!"

Several people walked by them, not really caring about the sight of an unkempt teenager in a torn robe and a single Moomba, but one of them did toss a coin at his feet. Squall didn't pay any attention, he was a little too dizzy to care. He eventually fell asleep, as several other people tossed him coins. The Moomba picked one up, a gill piece with an insect on the tail side and sniffed it. It nibbled on it to see if it was edible, then threw it down again once it learned it wasn't.

From the ally, Fujin and Raijin came, led by the other two Moomba. They were surprised, and a little unnerved to find him asleep on a front stoop in plain sight of everybody. But, they did like the look of the entire gill that lay in front of him.

"Wow." Raijin commented gleefully in Balambese. "You can make gill just by sleeping on the street? I didn't know that, did you?" Fujin didn't like the look of the smile on his face.

"PITTY GILL!" She squawked in the same language. "HOMELESS, THEY THINK!"

"So, does this mean we should give him some of our gill? Ya know, for booze."

Fujin kicked him in the shin. "WAIT IN ALLY!" They both hid back in the shadows of the brick buildings. The two Moomba went to join their fellow creature, as a few other people came by and tossed more coins their way.

Seifer drove by, stopping the car right in front of them.

"The freekin' hell?!" He got out of the car, running up to the steps. He nudged Squall forcefully in the face. "Wake up freak!"

He woke up, moaning and scratching his head.

"Where the hell are those two siblings anyway?" He asked indirectly, speaking in Alcauldian.

"What?" Groaned Squall, still sounding a bit asleep. "Fujin and Raijin?"

"Damn right! Raijin's adopted, hence, siblings! FUJIN! RAIJIN!"

Both brother and sister came out of hiding.

Seifer pointed angrily at Squall. "Didn't I tell you two to keep an eye on Leonhart?!"

Raijin started them off hesitantly. "Well yeah, but…"

"PITTY GILL!" Fujin finished off, pointing out the gill coins lying on the steps.

Seifer looked down at where she was pointing. He was impressed, but that didn't change his mood.

"What if someone had taken him with them?" He shouted. "Taken him to the police, their basement, or right back to the North Yaulny!"

"We were right here, ya know." Raijin explained. "And so were those moombas.

He was right. Seifer looked down at the three orange critters, crowded around Squall. One of them looked up at him, then turned its back once again.

"Okay." He began, pointing his finger sternly at his two associates. "The odds were with you this time. But don't EVER let me catch you doing that again." With that, he scooped up the gill. "Now get in the car, all six of you!" Raijin threw Squall into the back seat.

A child about ten years of age came riding by them in a bicycle, shouting: "Paper boy!" He threw a copy of the local newspaper, aiming for the front stoop of the apartment building, but ended up hitting Seifer in the head. The paperboy rode off without noticing anything.

"Damn paper boy." He scowled, rubbing his head where the paper hit. "Why can't he come around at 0800 hours like everyone else?"

"IT IS 0800 HOURS!" Fujin corrected.

To make sure, Seifer checked the digital clock on the dashboard. "It is. Well, I'll be damned."

"We can only hope." Squall cooed from the backseat.

"Shove it Leonhart!"

"Hey Seifer!" Raijin spoke up, sounding excited. "Take a look at this!"

He yanked the paper out of his hand and looked at the page. There was a wanted add, reward and all, for _him_!

"How the hell did that happen?" He started, scratching his head absently.

"There he is!" Someone yelled from down the street, fallowed by angry voices from a gathering, hostile mob, with some holding guns.

Seifer gave a yelp of surprise. "Get in the car! NOW!" They didn't hesitate. Once all in the car, with Seifer taking the wheel, they sped off as fast as they could. That did not stop the mob, some grabbed cars, even came on bikes: both mechanical and motor, and several of the youth had T-boards.

Sitting in the back seat, Raijin addressed Seifer. "Seifer, are those guys after you so they can get the reward, ya know?"

"Reward?" He asked skeptically. "I thought they were after me because I stole this car."

"IRONIC!" Fujin quipped.

"Yeah," Squall agreed. "Ironic that it's Almasy they want and not me."

"Shut up Leonhart! Everyone makes mistakes!" Defended Seifer.

"True. But some are more hallarious then others."

"Didn't I tell you to shove it Blindey?!"

"Now, let's here what the paper says about you…" He reached over the seat and took the newspaper. Read this Fujin.

"I'm warning you Rat Boy…!"

Fujin began to read, "…By order of President Hartung, and observed by the Galbadian Military, Seifer Almasy, also known as the self proclaimed 'knight' of Sorceress Edea and Sorceress Ultimecia, is charged with treason, espionage and grand larceny."

"Treason!" Shouted the blonde. "I understand that, but where did espionage and larceny come from?"

Outside, Seifer had swerved the car tightly at a corner. They made it, but two of the pursuing cars crashed into a diner, with a third one losing itself in a tailspin. A couple of bikes found themselves stuck in the midst of the wreck, and one T-boarder wiped out by turning to sharply.

"Oh, look." Fujin started with amusement. "There's something on Squall."

"There is?! Gimme!" Seifer grabbed the paper from Fujin.

As he was reading, he made another tight turn by an old brick elementary school. The turn was not too clean and their car suffered a nasty scratch, but, they were still moving. The last of the perusing cars ended up crashing right through the wall. Now, only the bikers and T-boarders were left on the chase.

"What the…!" Seifer stammered angrily. "They don't mention a thing about you!"

"MADE YOU LOOK!"

Irritated, he threw the paper back at Squall. "Wise ass." He muttered angrily at Fujin.

Squall started in a rather squeaky undertone. "Luck of the draw, I say."

"What do we do now, ya know?" Raijin asked, not sounding too nervous.

"SKIP THE COUNTRY!" Fujin suggested.

Squall found that move rather amusing. "Wow. One mistake and you have to leave the country. That must be a new record for you."

"Shut'chyo food hole!" Seifer ordered.

"Make me!"

"Fine! In exchange for your willingness to shut up, you can choose our destination!"

_The power_. He thought to himself. Of coarse, the chances that Seifer wouldn't take his suggestion seriously were pretty high. Well, two could play at that game. But where would he want to go. Timber? Rinoa was there, but he didn't want her to see him the way he was. That would just tarnish whatever view she had of him, she would even leave him! Dollet was the best choice, it was too close to Galbadia, a good place to cheese Seifer off. But, if they were still after him, they would find him easily. They couldn't go back to Balamb for personal reasons. He could suggest Trabia, maybe he could go to the Shumi, even though they tried to kill him, and him, they. But the Moomba…

…_The Moomba._

"Esthar!" He suggested with a voice of excitement.

"ESTHAR?" Squawked Fujin with disapproval. "HARD TO GET INTO! CAN'T…!"

"Esthar it is then!" Seifer interrupted.

"BUT SEIFER…"

"I said: 'Esthar it is then'! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some tailgaters to take care of." A sharp turn of the steering wheal, and the car turned completely around. Many of the pursuers braked immediately as the back bumper became the front fender. Those that didn't stop in time, rammed right into the hood of the car, thrown off their transportation and onto asphault.

The engine of the car revved, and sped right towards the mob. Thankfully, everyone got out of the way of the oncoming vehicle. Though, none were prepared to go after the car as it rode off.

Seifer leaned out of the driver's window, sneering maliciously at the fallen crowd and giving them the thumb/middle finger guesture, the Balambese equivelent to the finger. "KISS MY ASS GALBADIAN LOSERS!" Fujin had taken over the wheal from the passenger's side while he taunted them endlessly.

§

They stopped, but only for a while, at a foothill seventeen miles north west of New Coroner. Squall was bound with nylon rope in the backseat of the car with the three Moomba, while Seifer conferred some last minute plans with his posse.

"ESTHAR!" Started Fujin. "NOT SERIOUS?"

"Yeah man." Raijin agreed. "That place is locked up tighter then Headmaster Cid's office, ya know. How are we goinna get in there, ya know?"

"We're not going to Esthar." Explained Seifer, quiet enough so that Squall wouldn't overhear.

"Then…where are we goinn', ya know?"

Seifer leaned in closer, starting to talk softer. "Listen up. The quickest route to Esthar is via the Horizon Bridge, I've heard it just recently opened."

"But I thought you said…"

"QUIET!" Fujin ordered her brother, whacking him in the shoulder.

"Thank you Fujin." Applauded Seifer. "As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted. The only way to get to the Horizon Bridge is through Timber. Do you guys remember Rinoa?"

They both nodded a 'yes'.

Even though Squall couldn't hear _them_, he could hear another conversation.

"_To hell with this!"_ Cloak shouted. "_They're just goinna dump you in the nearest ditch to die, you know that."_

"I don't care about that anymore." He responded rationally. The Moomba looked up at him with worried curiosity.

"_I say, we ditch them first. We can be far better off alone. But first, there's something that must be done…"_

Outside, Seifer continued to explain. "Well, it just so happens that Squall has a thing for her, and she just happens to be around the main hub of the Timber capital. So here's the plan: we keep heading towards Timber, making Leonhart think we're going to Esthar. Once we're there, we ditch him with that girl, odds are he's not going to leave her. Then, we take the next train to Balamb where we'll be home free, no one pays attention to that place anyway."

"So, why didn't we stay there in the first place, ya know?" Raijin asked.

"That's not the point. The point is, we're going back."

"But, we can't get there without going on a train, ya know."

"Shows what you know. There's a tunnel that goes right through the Monterosa bluffs, all the way to Timber!"

"Shh." Fujin reminded. "KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN. HEAR US."

"Whose goinna hear us?!" Seifer shouted. "The trees?! THE ROCKS?!"

"Well, what if they hear us, ya know." Raijin sounded very worried.

"Fat chance! We're over a hundred kilometers in the middle of nowhere!" He shouted his next sentence at the very height of his lungpower to further illustrate his point. "THERE'S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT BUT MONSTERS!!!"

"YES, BUT…" Fujin motioned right behind Seifer.

"Dammit Fujin, don't you think I can take care of these piddly mountain monsters. Okay, so this 'Perish' is the heaviest, bluntest piece of equipment I have even had, but I could still knock someone out cold with it."

"Then, maybe you should use both hands, ya know." Suggested Raijin.

"Listen," Seifer authorized. "I don't tell you how to use a staff, you don't tell me how to use a gunbLA_HHGGNAHKKK…_" A tight noose had been thrown around his neck from behind, and was pulling tightly around his neck. Seifer instinctively pulled at the rope with his fingers to no avail as he was pulled up to a standing position.

"Give me back Perish GRASS HEAD!" Squall shouted, pulling the noose tighter.

The three Moomba had gotten out of the car, leaping onto his back, wrestling with him in an attempt to get him to stop. Fujin and Raijin helped them by getting Squall's grip off the noose. Seifer had gone as blue as an oyster by the time Squall was forced to let go. On his knees, he gagged for much needed air, one of his hands rubbed his chaffed throat.

"How the hell did you get untied?!" Asked Seifer angrily. "And how the hell did you know where I was."

Squall continued to struggle against those that held him. "Raijin was never good at tying knots. And you were yelling, good way to distiguish your postion ass hole."

He got stiffly up on his feet, looking at Squall even more sternly. "And you snuck up on me! You coward!"

"I prefer to call it cunning. I MADE YOU TURN GAG! AND IT WAS FUNNY!"

"Yeah, well that's a real sick sense of humour you have there Leonhart. Damn, no wonder you were in a nut house!" _Holy crap! he could have killed me!_

"I WANT MY GUNBLADE BACK ALMASY!!"

"Well, you're not getting it back with the stunt you just pulled. You two tie him back up, and this time, Fujin will work the knots!"

As he was dragged back to the car, Seifer looked on viciously, still rubbing his sore neck. With the rope that held him in hand, he inspected. Right away, he noticed that it was the same nylon twine Raijin had bound him with. _The son of a bitch wanted to kill me! Knowing damn well that he was outnumbered, outmatched, blind as a stone, and I bet he would have succeded if it weren't for Raijin, Fujin, and those moombas. What the hell is your motive Leonhart?!_ He remembered plainly in the encampment, how Squall had gotten up to him and held Perish up. He wouldn't have believed he was blind then, he had even _looked_ down at him!


	17. I Don't Believe I Just Did That

17

I Don't Beleive I Just Did That

Squall had left the Headmaster's office a mess. It took days for Scrivens to sort out all those files he had tossed around, and he still wasn't finished. What made the job even harder were his jittery fingers, always loosing his grip on an armful of files ready to be put back in the cabinet.

While carrying back half the files labeled 'L', he slipped, allowing the papers to fly all over the office.

"_Cyllanod!_" Dammit He swore in Nywell as he watched the files float and fall.

"Need help sir?" Nida offered from up on the bridge.

"Yes!" Scrivens stammered impatiently. "Hell YES!" Nida flinched at his sudden shouts. It was very obvious now that he needed an extra hand.

He descended via the 'tube lift' while the new Headmaster started to get on his hands and knees and collect all of the scattered files. Nida watched him for a few seconds as he did so, holding up the pointed end of a rubber handled dagger.

_I'm not going to screw up twice._ He thought with a vengeance.

Scrivens looked over to him as soon as he knew the SeeD was there, with Nida moving the dagger quickly behind his back. "Just find all the files labeled 'L' and put them in a pile where I can see it." He told him, making a quick gesture towards all the scattered papers. He was oblivious to the murder attempt.

_Your only on the 'L's?_ Thought Nida with puzzled contempt. _What sort of primitive method is this you're doing anyway?_ It was no use complaining. He crouched down and collected what he was told to, running into an 'M', an 'O', and three 'T's on the way. Once, Nida had stopped his mundane search and began reading one of the files for pleasure.

Scrivens caught him, though. "Put that down!" He yelled. "If any one of those students knew you were reading their permanent record, they'll throw you into the laundry shoot covered in rancid mayonnaise. Believe me, I know."

_I don't doubt you in the least._ He brought the dagger out again, gaining so close to the Headmaster's turned back. There would normally be blood, but not with the ingenious innovation of the wide-brimmed handle. He could leave the dagger in after it was planted in Scrivens' back, take off the rubber casing on the handle, head out of the office and down through the heating duct Squall had ruined a few days earlier, lie, and no one would link him to the scene of the crime.

Scrivens didn't even appear to be remotely concerned with the actions of the SeeD behind him. Nida came so close, ready to shove the blade into his spine, when he saw something. Setting the dagger down quietly, he picked up what he saw. It was on a peice of paper, probably a part of a student record, but it was virtually illegible. From the margin of the page, the letters ran like wet ink towards the paralell end. Staring closely, he could see that the ink was still running slowly. Turning the page around, it was revealed that the running ink had managed to cover half of the backside, and would probably continue around, and around, and around... What the wet ink had not yet touched was all blurred quiet heavily. Though, at the bottom of the facing page, one line remained legible. It read: "was never good at saying 'leave me alone.'" There was no way to decipher to what record the page was from.

It was impossible! The paper wasn't even wet in the least, nor did it show any signs of ever being so. The hand that held the page shivered with a spontaneous twinge. Nida gained his composure fast before Scrivens could hear anything. Folding the paper up, he stowed it away behind the coat of his SeeD uniform. He would not allow such a find to be hidden away in the cabinet.

He immediately found two other papers showing other weird blotching. On one page, the words looked to have been stirred around by a paintbrush, with a big, white gash separating the smeared words diagonally. The second had lettering that had jumbled itself to the point where it looked like black and white alphabet soup. Also, he hid these away with his first find.

Nida was surprised that Scrivens didn't notice any of this. He soon found out why. Looking over the Headmaster's head, he saw that he held up another blotched piece of paper. The blotch was similar to the first one Nida found, but on this one, the distortion started at the middle, and radiated outwards.

"Dear sweat Time and Creator," he heard Scrivens mumble. "Where the hell did this come from?"

§

There was a trans-continental tunnel located at the south of Monterosa that ran straight to the opposite side of the Yaulny Canyon. It was built around two decades ago when Galbadia took Timber. More routes were needed to carry lumber and military units from place to place. Sub Route Three; officials called it, but most knew it as the Timber Back Road. It had lost any government use over seven years ago, and converted to commercial use.

Seifer drove down the dim light of the rocky tunnel, knowing full well that it was the smartest, and safest route to travel. The risk of being found was so high, that everyone would think they wouldn't dare risk it. He sat at the driver's seat with Fujin in the passenger's, with one of the Moomba in the middle. Raijin sat right behind her, and beside him were the other two Moomba, and then, Squall. He had fallen asleep several miles back before they reached the tunnel, and they were all thankful for the reprieve, especially Raijin, who was feeling very uneasy listening to his mumblings.

"Seifer," started Raijin, "I have to go pee, ya know."

"We just went seven hours ago!" He stated venomously. "How small is your bladder anyway?"

"MUST WITTLE ALSO!" Fujin also brought to his attention.

The big Moomba sitting between the two tugged at the sleeve of his coat.

"What!?" He screeched in annoyance. "You have to go, too?" The Moomba shook its head 'yes'.

"DAMN! I feel like I'm a camp counciler here! Why can't you guys just crash like Leonhart!?"

"Bet he has to go, too, ya know." Suggested Raijin.

"Fat chance! He hasn't eaten since we got him. Unlike some pigs I will not mention."

"ASK HIM!" Inquired Fujin.

"WHAT! I'm not asking that freak anything! Not after that stunt he pulled!" The Moomba sitting next to him bit his arm, causing Seifer to yell in frustration and pain. "FINE! I'll ask him!" He let go of the steering wheel so he could turn around to wake him. Fujin inanely leaned over to take over the wheel as he did so.

Squall was nestled up against the car window, still wearing his seatbelt. A string of drool oozed out of his open mouth.

Seifer poked him in the shoulder with his finger. "Hey, Rat Boy. You up?"

He groggily woke up with a grunt and a hiss, stretching as best he could in his position. Someone was talking, but it was not Seifer.

"_Look up!"_ The outside had lost its highway sounds, and had grown deathly quiet.

A voice that sounded flawlessly like Headmaster Cid's spoke angrily. "You're coming with me young man!" And the inside of the vehicle got a lot hotter. He could hear small tendrils of flame ignite from outside of the car. The fear of his warped present and past deeds warranted the single idea that somebody wasn't happy with him.

"I'm sorry!" Yelled Squall with all genuine regret. "I didn't mean too! It just happened!"

All of them present looked puzzled at the display. "What's he talking about, ya know?" Raijin asked.

Fujin answered him, still controlling the wheel in an awkward position. "BEATS ME!"

"Well," began Seifer, sitting back down at the wheel with a big, satisfied grin. "Guess he doesn't have to go."

§

Eventually, Seifer had to stop.

They had driven the whole day with only two rest stops, a single episode where the car overheated and the three of them spent the next hour spitting on the engine to cool it down, and, of coarse, three cases where Squall went 'weird' on them. The first was that strange confession of his. The second that happened was when he started to recite some Alcauldian verse, softly at first, but became louder every time Seifer told him to stop. Everyone asked each other if they knew what song he was singing, but no go, and it didn't help that the Moomba kept trying to tell them something. Squall eventually stopped, possibly because the song he had sung was over. The third spell happened when he began to talk to Cloak. He used Alcauldian, but, in a context that sounded foreign and ridiculous. Seifer tried to get him to be quiet, but then he started to writhe like a drowning fish, nearly breaking a window. It was the Moomba beside him that calmed him down. Several times, Seifer wondered if he was just putting on an act.

By the time they did stop for a break, it was already dusk. For cover, they hid in the brush of the native Timber trees. It was estimated that it was another four hours of driving to get to Timber. That was good news for Squall, even better news for Seifer. For some reason, even the Moomba were ecstatic.

They took turns taking watch. First, Seifer stayed up, but he spent most of his attention to keeping Squall subdued then looking out for monsters and passerbies. Raijin took second watch, and was perpetually edgy, waking up everybody at least once, including Squall and the Moomba.

By the time it was Fujin's turn, it was getting close to magic hour. Only a few stars were out, and the horizon was gaining its first morning glow. She couldn't remember when she last saw such a young sunrise. Quite possibly because she never had.

"Keep looking." Croaked an early rising Squall. Fujin saw that he was crawling towards her on his knees, and his head was down.

"UP EARLY!" She observed as Squall came to crouch right beside her.

"Keep looking." He repeated, not bothering to estimate eye contact with her. "When was the last time the sun was late?"

_Whoa, that's deep._ Thought Fujin.

"When was the last time the moon called in sick?"

"RITORICAL?"

"Dammitt Fujin! It never happened! Did it!" He dropped onto his side, his back to Fujin. "I've been alive for too friggn' long and I failed to see that every damn thing around me is one big machine!"

_Too long?_ "ONLY SEVENTEEN!" Replied Fujin.

"SHUT UP!" He stammered, the force of his voice shook. "Shut up! I don't need your pity! No good comes of pity." Squall wasn't in the mood to argue. He had woken up with a horrible sensation in his throat, and a tearing feeling at his gut. Whenever he swallowed, it felt like his saliva was running down a dry, rubber hose of surgical tubing. The bitter feel of it was so strong, he could, so much as imagine the taste of rubber. The tearing would get worse every time he made a sudden movement that involved his torso in any way. Cloak had gone quiet, but Strychnine was screeching with worry.

"_What's happening? What's wrong Squall?"_

"I understand fully." Fujin told him point blank. She, too, discouraged pity. "But, if you have a problem with being alive, why not do anything about it." _Gosh, I hope a said the right thing._

He lay still for a second, and then shot upwards. Crouching on both legs, with his maimed leg shaking a bit from the stress, and his fingers were spread out in front of him for extra balance. He expressed a very potent look of scorn. "What are you saying? You want to kill me? YOU CAN'T KILL ME!" His shouting woke Seifer and Raijin up.

Seifer took one look at the fading night sky and scowled. "How damn early is it anyway?!"

The pain in his stomach tightened when he had gotten up, but Squall would not dare put his hand across the sensation to sooth it. One look of weakness, and Seifer would have a field day. He tried to stand up, but his right leg didn't seem sturdy enough to hold his weight. So, he opted for crouching.

"SEIFER!" He screeched. "YOU COULDN'T KILL ME! I KNOW THAT FOR A FACT!"

"What?" Responded Seifer in confusion. "What the hell is this all about?!" He looked at Fujin with concerned anger. "Fujin, what were you two talking about anyway?!"

"MORTALITY!" She answered.

"She said she was going to kill me!" Squall stammered, pointing haggardly at her, missing her actuall direction completely "You're all going to kill me." He started to back up. "Bastards! The lot of you!" _Now_, Cloak was starting to talk.

Squall began to pace the best he could in a crouching position. "Well, they are. Yes, they are. They will…I hate them. I HATE THEM ALL!"

Seifer had had enough of his rantings, and tackled the lunatic. He put the edge of Perish to his throat. "Listen to me you bad case of anxiaty." He hissed in his ear. "I don't care what you, or your little friend says. You're coming with us to Esthar, and you're going to like it. Or we're dumping you out here in the middle of nowhere, naked, and bleeding. You got that!"

Hesitant, Squall complied. "Y-yes."

"Good." With rough demeanor, Seifer released him from his grip and turned to his posse. "All right, pack it up! We're heading to Esthar."

"We are?" Raijin started. "But I thought we were goinna leave Squall in OW!" Before he could finish, Fujin had given him another swift kick in the shin to shut him up.

§

It was easy to surmise that, with news of the Sorceress, the Galbadian soldiers were uneasy. They, then, had three suspects to look out for: Rinoa, Selphie, and Squall, whom they had to capture alive, none of which, had their names divulged. When asked why not, the simple answer was that it was impossible to divulge a name when you knew none.

Watts new this. He had been spying on the movement of the soldiers since they had first heard they were flooding the town once more. The appearance of the Black Widows didn't do anything to ease the worries of the people, and when the Galbadians started to arrest every woman in sight on charges of being the Sorceress, something had to give. The soldiers had outwardly revealed the description of the 'supplier', and he knew right away who the 'Sorceress' was, but they did not talk much about the 'escapee', only that it was a 'him', and they were to look out for 'him', and 'take him in'.

From behind a brick building where he was eavesdropping on a soldier's conversation about Sorceress accusations, Watts dashed away back to where the rest of the Forest Owls were hiding nearby.

Inside the local tavern congregated the whole resistence group, the two SeeDs, Angelo, and Sly, whom Selphie did not return as of yet.

Zone stood up as soon as he entered the bar. "Find out anything new?"

"Sure did sir." He panted from his sudden run. "The soldier's have started up a witch hunt. They're rounding up any women and girls they can find, that includes seniors and infants. So it's only going to be a matter of time before both Selphie and Rinoa are caught."

Zone scratched his head in thought. "What makes you think so?"

"What are they talking about?" Zell asked Selphie.

"I don't know? They're speaking in one of those Timber tongues."

Watts answered the leader. "They gave outright descriptions of the SeeD, saying how she illegally gave a Guardian Force to a dangerous individual."

All the members were stunned at this news. Zone decided to question Selphie himself.

He started in Galbadian. "Selphie, did you hand any of your GF's to anyone lately?"

Selphie looked at him with bewilderment. She took inventory of the Guardian Forces she already had.

_Ifrit. Yeah, he's here._ She began to herself. _Pandemona, also here. Eden? Oh, yeah, definitely here._ "Nope, have all my Guardian Forces."

The rest of the Owls had to agree with her, she didn't have the brains to lie.

"Hey," Seth started up, "do you think that the escapee has anything to do with the Forest Bears?"

"If that were true," Rind began, "wouldn't they use a plural to include the Forest Bears?"

"Hey! It's a start!"

Zone had taken up what they were discussing. "Speaking of the Bears, did you hear anything about them, Watts?"

"No. Did you Mordechai?"

"Not as such." Was his answer.

"Well, the best we can hope for is they were executed." Brix scoffed. "They deserve as much for taking Spikes down!"

"Spikes wasn't the first one they took, Brix!" Rinoa started up, scratching Angelo behind the ears. "Those Bears have taken Wenn, Boren, and Argo. And we've taken several of them. If you ask me, it could have been either one of us."

"Oh, c'mon Rinoa." Zone whined. "We're in the middle of a skirmish that hadn't been seen in seventeen years. Why feel sorry for an enemy?"

"Because they aren't! It's those damn Galbadian maggots!"

As if called, a loud knock sounded at the front doors. "_Nant fim kibo!_"Open up in there!

Terrified, the Owls all stood up in surprise, staring in shock at the door, Sly was merely curious as to what was happening. "It's the Galbs!" Squeaked another member by the name of Horace. "Scatter!" Breaking from there paralysis, the team did so, dodging into the secret trap door on the other side of the bar tender's counter.

Zell and Selphie didn't seem to fallow them. Rinoa had to tell them in Alcauldian. They came, but for some reason, reluctantly. It was sure to Rinoa that they wanted to stay and put those soldiers in their place.

Not prolonging the moment, the soldiers kicked the door down, entering with their swords at the ready. There was one officer, clad in the standard red of the Galbadian high ranks, with great Gatling guns placed on his wrists like gauntlets.

The lower rank soldiers fanned out in front of him. "_Quibe os megir!_" Search the place!. On order, the soldiers did so, busting furniture, moving around objects carelessly, and throwing things around as they advanced.

"_Kell inson tri Chocobo?_" What about the Chocobo? One of the others asked.

"_Al mir inspend inson incrull Chocobo!_" I said nothing about no stinking Chocobo!"

From the small, secret room they hid in, the Owls shivered with their impending fear.

"How long," Watts squeaked, "how long until they find us?"

"I'm more worried if they start to shoot the floor at random." Rind added.

As bad luck had it, that's what they started to do. The head of the squad, the high ranker, started to shoot by the front of the door where he stood, advancing slowly to where they hid. Un 'chocobo' like, Sly flinched at the loud sound, but did not run amok.

"_Swinto lisint, Timber glakil!_"Show yourself, Timber pukes! He shouted furiously as more holes were made in the linoleum floor.

If they ran for it, they would be shot. If they were to stay where they were, they would be shot. Either way, the Owls were trapped.

§

Irvine was now at the wheel of the jeep.

"How do you know we're heading in the right direction?" He asked Quistis. "It's not like that thing's a hundred percent accurate."

Quistis wasn't amused with his question. "I use maps. Try it sometime."

They had surpassed the jungle a long time ago. To save time, they had even surpassed New Coroner. Quistis had a good hunch where Seifer was heading; he would never crawl back to Deling; not with the wound he carried. The maps that were in the jeep's glove compartment showed a trans-continental tunnel, and it became obvious to her that he was heading south, probably to make a run at getting into Timber, or possibly, Esthar.

From what she could surmise from the tracker on the monitor, and the information she got from the maps, she could safely say that Seifer, and quite possibly the rest of his posse, would not escape them without a fight. The 'fight' part, of course, troubled her, but they had to get him and hand him over. He still had some debt to repay to the Garden.

§

Over the hill, Seifer drove the car. Every meter they made got them closer to Timber, and the closer to Timber they got, the happier Seifer felt. They would ditch Squall within some gutter and high tail it to Balamb from there.

They had also come by some other useful tid-bits on their journey. According to Squall, the Moomba were to be accorded with more respect. It wasn't like Seifer was ready to fallow his order, but, according to Squall, they were to be addressed as Moomba, and not, moombas. He also learned that they had names: The big one was Bishop, the smallest one was Deacon, and the third, a female, was Cardinal. Seifer couldn't care less if Squall told him so, but the Moomba themselves would encourage him to call them by those names.

_Is it me?_ Seifer thought bitterly. _Or is Leonhart more of a bitch then ever? It has to be that damn limp of his! I wonder where he got it? I bet that blindness has something to do with it. Wonder where he got that, too?_ No matter how hard, and well, the leg was covered up, he could tell that Squall was wounded beyond his eyes. This fact made him even happier.

"Hey! Will you stop gagging back there Rat Boy?!" He yelled.

Squall had started gagging ever since that morning. He would not swallow if he could help it, so he vouched on hacking up his saliva. He said nothing in response. He couldn't, _didn't_, give a damn about what Seifer wanted him to do either.

"Seifer." Raijin began, holding his hand up as if he was in class.

"What?!"

"Someone's fallowing us, ya know."

Hesitant, he stuck his head out of the driver's window. Sure enough, they were being tailed. But not just by anybody. Looking out of the driver's window of the tailing car was Irvine, and he looked sarcastically pleased to meet them.

"Holy crap!" Seifer shouted in alarm, bringing his head back inside the vehicle. "Trepe and the cowboy found us! My accredit to Trepe's tracking skills."

"HOW?" Fujin asked.

"Beats me. But this is the end of the road for them!"

Seifer floored the gas pedal, and the car squealed off. Irvine fallowed in suit, also flooring the gas.

Raijin took a quick look behind them. "They're still fallowing us, ya know."

"Yes, I do know, thank you for sharing!"

In the jeep, Irvine kept a close eye on their prey. "Smooth move with those short-cuts Quistis. How did you guess we would catch up to them here?"

"I didn't make SeeD cadet at fifteen for nothing." She answered.

In an attempt to dodge them, Seifer pulled the ol' zig-zag trick, hoping Irvine would fly off the road. No dice. Even though he was swerving on the wheel, Quistis backed him up, a reckless driver just like Almasy. But, there were several instances where he did come close to driving the jeep into a tree.

Fujin pointed towards a crop of buildings coming up in the horizon. It was Timber!

Irvine and Quistis also saw it. "Is he really goinna go, like, a hundred and ten in a semi-urban setting?" He spoke to his partner.

"He'd go a hundred and fifty in Deling!"

The border of the town had a simple wooden post that held a sign saying: "Welcome to Timber" in Mainstream, Valoo, and Kapak. Seifer barreled right over it. Not unexpected, people were screaming and dodging as they both came by, driving recklessly over the streets.

A heavy stomping came up behind them. Quistis heard this, and looked behind her. She couldn't believe what she saw.

"A Black Widow!" She screamed, noticing the huge, four legged robot.

"A black what?" Irvine knew well of what a 'black widow' was, but didn't think he'd ever see one. "So the legends are true."

"The last time I saw one of those was in Dollet!"

Neither of Seifer's group turned around, only Squall bothered, he could hear something, something big stompling up behind them rather quicly. "Captain, we appear to be experiencing hostile tendencies." His voice was rather calm.

"Okay, what's the catch?" Growled Seifer. "You wouldn't call me captain for nothing."

"BEHIND US!" Yelled Fujin, who also looked back.

He took a look in the rear-view mirror. "HOLY FREAKN' CRAP!" Even the Moomba looked out back, even though Bishop had the worst view.

From the mandible of the great, insectoid weapon spewed a beam of ferocious energy. The beam hit the fender of the tailing jeep. With lucky timing, Irvine swerved the jeep in a sharp, hair-pin turn. They were still blown back a considerable distance. The inertia created from their turn allowed them to stay up, even though their fender had fallen off.

Those in Seifer's car felt the blow as well. Being further away, though, they were not as heavily affected. As Seifer spied Irvine taking a sharp left, with the Black Widow fallowing in their tread marks, he took that time to park the car in a lonely lot beside a clothing store.

"Everyone out of the bus!" He ordered.

Fujin replied. "SQUALL'S ALREADY OUT!"

Indeed, Seifer saw him limp out in front of the car and wonder down town, the Moomba were right behind him. Sure enough, as he looked behind him, the back door was open.

"Well, mission one is a successes." He concluded, leaning back in his seat with a smug smile. It disappeared just as soon as he saw Squall carrying Perish. "That bastard's got my gunblade!"

"HIS GUNBLADE!"

"Not in my book! EVERYONE, GET OUT AND GET THAT BLADE!" All three of them rushed out of the car and ran after Squall.

Trusting his wits more then his legs, Squall dodged them merely by making a sharp turn. The posse were delayed just enough for him to make a quick entrance into a hardware store.

The three of them looked around just as they realized they'd been had. "Where the hell did that little sewer rat go?!" Seifer shouted in anger.

"SPLIT UP?" Suggested Fujin.

"No!" He took a quick look around and double guessed the action that Squall took. He saw the Moomba heading towards the thin ally between two stores. "After them!"

Slowly, Squall gained his composure, his breathing slowed down to normal as he heard the shouting outside, Seifer and his posse taking the bait. He couldn't believe the Moomba would do that for him on a whim, he would be forever grateful.

"_I think those guys like you."_ Strychnine peeped happily.

_Really? Wow._ He wasn't even sarcastic.

The owner of the store sat behind the counter, and he was asleep. Squall took this time to hobble towards an exit, and stumbled into a dispaly case of screws.

The old man behind the counter woke up with the crash off metal and glass metal. He spotted right away, some kid in ratty looking green robe just crashed into a display case, having great difficulties getting up.

The clerk took immediate pity on him. "Oh, you poor boy. Can I help you?" The middle aged man asked, leaving the counter to help him up.

Squall stopped to surmise whom the voice belonged to, then jumped backwards in surprise. "_WITNESS!"_

"_Scrak ðutrir!_" Shut your hole!

Obviously, the shop keep thought he was talking to him. He shuddered at the young man's rudeness, but didn't say anything. Though, when he saw that Squall would continuously stare at him through a pale, thinning face and clouded eyes hidden behind dark circles, something had to be said.

"Are you alright? Are you looking for someone?"

"Show me out a back door, and I'll forget you touched me."

§

Two Galbadian soldiers stood at their post by a rundown diner, which was completely deserted thanks to their presence, but both of them had managed to get a hold of a cup of coffee for themselves.

"I say," started one of the soldiers, a simple private, "what are we doing here again?"

The second soldier, a sergeant, didn't seem too bothered by the question. " We're lookn' for the Sorceress. Where the government got their information, I don't know. But, we're also looking out for that person who gave away that Guardian Force to that mental patient. 'Said to have been heading this way."

"A mental patient. Is that the guy we want to bring in dead or alive?"

"Alive."

"Oh, so we kill the Sorceress and that supplier chick on sight?"

"Pretty much so."

"So what about that mental patient? We see him, and we catch him on sight?"

"That's pretty much the orders."

"But we don't even know what this patient looks like?"

"Oh, sure we do. The officers were given a description. Some kid between the ages of sixteen and nineteen, brown hair, clouded eyes due to blindness, gimpy right leg, a scar across the bridge of his nose…"

"Sounds like a local vandal. Most of them have brown hair, and one or two of them have game legs. How the hell do we know for sure we don't hand in the wrong guy?"

"'Cause there's this tattoo the guys at the South Monterosa Hospital put on his back with a name, date of birth, stuff like that. Ya know, just as a precaution, since those hospital bracelets come off a lot easier."

"South Monterosa? I thought it was North Yaulny?"

"Either or."

"Well, either case, I can justify why that kid escaped. That place is a bloody hell hole, or so I've been told."

From the ally just to the right of the soldiers stumbled a raving kid about sixteen to nineteen, brown hair, clouded eyes due to blindess, gimpy right leg, and a scar across the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, look, that kid fits the description."

The sergeant took a second look at the kid. "Nah, not him. The guy we're looking for isn't wearing a rag of a dress, or carrying a gunblade for that matter."

"But shouldn't we…"

"Who's in charge, here?"

The decision was unanimous, and the two soldiers went back to sipping their coffee.

Squall stumbled down a back road, not really paying attention to where he was going or what he was stepping on. The dirty walls around him were blending well with a raging thought that held the colour of red and the odour of brown. As Cloak started in her most bizarre form of poetry, Squall became aware of a sound with no tone, unlike the quipping taunts of the plants, or the squeaking chimes of Strychnine. The hallow sound oozed about like salt water: calming, soothing, yet, bitter to the taste he didn't even possess.

"_AAHHHHK!"_ Cloak bellowed. "_They're all over us! They're talking! They won't shut up!"_

"And neither will you." Quipped Squall.

"_Shove it when I'm talkin', you bastard!"_

He heard Strychnine start up curiously. "_Squall. What's this stuff in your blood?"_

"Synthetic." He stammered, a little startled by her interruption. "It's synthetic blood. That's all I know."

"_Oh. Is synthetic blood nuclear?"_

_Nuclear!_ In no way was a nuclear substance considered safe enough to inject in a human body. Yet, why was Strychnine so intent on his blood, and even identified it as nuclear?

Nuclear! That was not possible! Yet, he was sick. He felt horrible on several occasions. Maybe the whole rig-a-ma-role with his lack of blood, all those drugs, and the ataracts were squeezing it all into a little palate that didn't have room for each colour to be on their own.

"That's where you came from!" He yelled at Cloak as he continued to limp down the back of Timber. "You're a delirium! Oh Time and Creation, I'm goinna get a tumour the size of dragon's egg, AND YOU'RE GOINNA GO DOWN WITH ME!!"

"_Now, now, Appalling Pace. Remember, we discussed this before. Now get a grip and watch out!"_

"What?"

"_I said WATCH OUT!"_


	18. Puree

18

Purée

_This is The Good Ship Lifestyle,  
All my friends jumped ship.  
I elect me, the captain,  
This is the lonliest voyage;  
I've ever been on.  
Up in the crowsnest,  
Over there! I see land!  
First Mate? There is no First Mate...  
This is The Good Ship Lifestyle._

"The Good Ship Lifestyle" by _Chumbawumba_

After the Moomba had taken them through a rough road of dumpsters, graffiti and stray cats did Seifer realize that something was wrong. Just as soon as the three Moomba completely stopped, it hit him. It was all a decoy! How the four cooperated to pull it off was beyond him, but they had been on a wild goose chase. He stopped short in his tracks. Fujin and Raijin, who were right behind him, only stopped when they slammed into Seifer, sending them all falling to the dirty pavement.

Seifer looked up at the Moomba, who appeared to be laughing at him. "We've been had!"

"Had what, ya know?" Raijin asked, still draped over Seifer's back.

"HEAD BACK?" Fujin suggested.

"Hell no!" Managing to get up with such a weight as Raijin on him, he pointed ominously at the three Moomba. "That prank's not goinna work lion wannabees!" Then, a jeep that came crashing through a brick wall hit him.

Irvine scowled at Seifer, his face pressed against the windshield. "Eww, that is one nasty bug."

That, he did not need. "So we meet again Kinneas!" Seifer scowled back. "I thought you were dodging a big ass robot?"

"We are." Quistis answered, pointing behind her. Just as she said, the Black Widow was still tailing them, destroying anything that got in its way.

§

The soldiers had gotten all the Owls, and the two SeeDs, out of their little rat hole, and forced them into a line outside the pub at gunpoint. A few of the soldiers held Squall by the arms. He was wriggling, but not good enough, the soldiers did not have to work hard to overpower him. One of them held onto the golden Perish, and another, Sly's reins.

While one of the soldiers held his wrist firmly behind his back, and another one held his head, the third groped at the collar of his robe.

From his point, Zell could see what they were doing. "Hey! HEY! What the hell are you doing to…?" He spoke in Galbadian so he knew they'd know what he was saying, but stopped just when he heard the sound of a gun cocking. Their team outnumbered the Galbadians nineteen to twelve, but their guns outnumbered them twelve to zero.

"Not a threat." Zell boasted in Balambese. "I can take them all, guns or no guns."

"And probably kill Squall with the rest of the soldiers." Rinoa argued.

"Hey, we wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't gone bugle on us."

"Don't you think I feel bad enough already?!"

The Galbadian soldier had managed to expose Squall's shoulder, and could now read the tattoo engraved on it. As the soldier brushed his finger over the words etched into his flesh, he loudly recalled how they had put the tattoo there in the first place. The hospital staff hand branded him with a hot iron, each letter and number **individually**! It wasn't at all a pleasant memory.

"This is the kid!" The soldier announced, putting the collar back into place. The two other soldiers who had held him firm forced him to get up with a good kick in his wounded shin. It felt to Squall like the leg had been shoved into a blender.

Doubling over in agony, he cursed under his breath: "_Eirrskið. Eirrskið Strychnine. Eirnassa!_" Kill them. Kill them Strychnine. Kill them all!

The soldiers barely paid attention to him, dismissing his babbling as crazy talk. A couple of the blue uniformed Galbadians led him away, kicking their prisoner several times to move faster. The rest stayed behind with their guns held up towards the resistance.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a running." The officer started.

"Running?" Wondered Selphie. "What's a running?"

"A running," began Zone, "is where we're forced to run for it while they shoot us at random."

_Whoa, pressure._ But where would they run? The Galbadians had them all lined up only a couple of meters from a brick wall.

"They're going to make us run into a wall?" Selphie asked again.

Rinoa answered shakily. "Yes!"

The Galbadian officer yelled an all too familiar "Ready…!" Guns were cocked, nerves were shaken, and Zell had that unbelievable urge to yell out a one-liner.

"Aim…!" All soldiers aimed. Watts was ready to run for it, but Andy convinced him otherwise. Unfortunately, he could not convince his brother, so Rind took off, running adjacent to the wall in front of him. He was shot three times. Once in the hip, once in the head, and a third when he was already down. This action got the whole lot running for it, but the Galbadians could not shoot them. Instead, they stared at an eerie glowing ball that appeared right at the lines of their fire. The ball contracted and stretched, until it had reached its true form. Strychnine looked down at the soldiers who gawked and stared at her with total fear. Even the soldiers who were taking Squall away stopped. With the man holding him distracted, Sly knocked him away with his mighty foot, taking off for higher ground.

In front of her, those were her targets. Absolutely everyone in her line of sight. She held up her black scythes and whirled them around her bony fingers like batons. She recalled the word 'blender', something she had heard Squall say, or think, she couldn't tell the difference. Faster then the human eye could keep up with; she took out three of the soldiers in a flash with one swift slash. While the strewn and gutted bodies of the soldiers were still in the air, she hacked and slashed with all her might and stealth. By the time they landed on the ground, they were reduced to a bloody smoothy.

Gaining their composure, the remaining soldiers readied their guns. But another four met the same fate before they knew what was happening. The officer and one lone soldier ran for it, the rest were as good as mulch. Their blood flooded the cobble ground underneath, and the smell of metal mixed with dead meat. With his holders slain, his aching leg was all that hampered Squall. Strychnine moved to help him along the slippery blood, when she saw more 'enemies'. The Forest Owls and the SeeDs did not run far, they couldn't. They were scattered around the plaza, unable to move from awe and fear of such a strange beast, as well as a very enclosed space.

Strychnine saw Selphie first. She screamed as the Guardian Force lifted one of her scythes. To the girl, the skeletal serpentine form reminded her of the stories of the Hell Serpent, Grim Reaper of Trabia. Death was a horrible thing to stare in the eye literally.

"NO!" Squall yelled to his Guardian Force. "No! That's enough!" As he limped over the sticky blood, covered in fawna pulp, Strychnine lowered her scythe obediently, but not without giving her father a look that was most likely bashful.

Selphie, stunned by what just happened, dropped to her knees in utter fascination and shock, her mouth quivering with the vocabulary, but not moving with the speech. The first to step forward was Rinoa, fallowed by Zell, whom both knew Squall well enough to assume that what he called was most likely a Guardian Force of some sort and origin. Zone, Watts, Mordechai, and Brine fallowed suite, but the rest of the Forest Owls decided to stay where they were.

Squall lumbered up to Strychnine, reaching out to fiddle with the red metal of her ohricalcum chain. Everyone had gotten some amount of blood spattered on them, but none more than Squall and his new companion. Andy finally lumbered forward only to mourn by his brother's bleeding cadaver.

Zell started to say something to Squall, but was interrupted by a vehicle that had barrelled down from the levelled ground above them. All leapt aside trying to avoid the crashing vehicle that had someone on the hood. Strychnine only dodged by moving her bony head aside. The tires hit the blood, and screeched to a dramatic halt, throwing the living hood ornament several feet forward from the inertia. Seifer's back skidded on the blood, only stopping just as his head hit the panel grating that closed off the tracks.

Irvine stood up in the passengers' seat, aghast at what he saw around him. "What the hell happened here?!"

Another noise came quickly, the dramatic stomping of the Black Widow. It knew where to find them, and it had no trouble jumping off the ground to the lowered elevation of the plaza below. Still looking at the jeep, Strychnine did not see the great machine behind her. It landed on top of the GF. Not harmed in the least, the skeletal serpent swerved underneath the metal mass of the great hulk; to meet it eye socket to laser sensor. Annoyed, Strychnine wedged her two scythes into its metal shell, the blades penetrated as if it were made of tinfoil. With her weapons stuck in the vast, metal skin, she proceeded to wrap her lower body around it, very much constricting it, the barbed ribs squealing against the Black Widow as she squeezed tighter. The attacking machine tried to find an exit, but Strychnine finally locked her jaws over what could have been called its face. Her jaws were incredible, completely tearing off the metal shell, revealing the delicate circuits underneath. She tore those out with her bare hand. Thus, the Black Widow was destroyed. The whole ordeal only took three seconds.

Everyone looked on, but only Irvine spoke, tracing the symbol of a triangle in front of him. "Sweet Family of Time, Space, and Creation." Strychnine paid no attention, just yanked her scythes out of the busted machine with no problem. A greasy fog of black and purple enveloped her, and vanished in its mist as she reverted back towards Squall. Both Irvine and Quistis got out of the vehicle, not quite prepared when they heard the sloshing of their shoes in bloody brine.

Silently, Squall stood where he was. The front of his robe was drenched with blood, and his feet, hands, and face were smeared in it. Most of the Forest Owls were purely frightened at the sight, even Rinoa.

"_Run."_ Started Cloak. "_They can all see you. They know what you did. How are you going to explain yourself to them?!"_ She was right, he had nothing for them, nor did he even want to see any of them, at least that part he was spared. Shapes started to twitch, and colours began to smear, Squall was hit with a deluge of sounds. They sounded like people talking.

"…_How the hell did he get here…?"_

"…_Is this guy for real…?"_

"…_What was that thing that ate the Black Widow…?"_

"…_Was that thing yours…?"_

"…_What happened to you man…?"_

"…_So he's alive…?"_

All those voices had a distinctive note. Not all, did he know, but he recognized Selphie, Zell, Rinoa, Irvine, Quistis, and weakly, Zone, Watts, and only a couple other Owls he couldn't remember the names of. All of those voices were strung together with some sort of sonic glue, shaking and quivering, making its own pink noise until it drowned out all the other voices, and became as a mix of disturbing laughs, cries, and screams.

"_RUN NOW!"_ Shouted Cloak. Squall took no time to hesitate. Taking off with a snap of a gun, he right into the banister of the plaza stairs. Winded, he lumbered up the stairs to the road above, stumbling and limping on his way.

Staring at him under the brilliant light of the late morning sun, Zell took a few curious steps forward, wading in the pulp and plasma. "'Sup with him?"

Untimely, the bar they had just been in exploded. Shrapnel, wood, and all kinds of debris flew, as well as those standing in front of it. Even Seifer was thrown back as he tried to get up. So strong was the blow, that it even blew the metal carcass of the Black Widow.

The huge hulk only skipped a meter or so away. But Zone, who was still dazed from the force of the explosion, did not see the largest of shrapnel hit him.

From several blocks away. The two siblings, Raijin and Fujin, whom had been desperately trying to track down the jeep, saw the explosion. The Moomba, whom were not so far in front of them, were the first to head towards the ruckus.

Several of the nearby buildings were hit from the rest of the debris, as well as many people. Screams were heard just after the great boom of the explosion. As the light show subsided into a dusty aftermath, those who were right in front of the blast counted themselves lucky as they hauled themselves up out of the blood and gore. Irvine had hit a brick wall back first. It was only by the aid of one of his Guardian Force: Carbuncle, that he had the endurance to take it.

"_Siasä masìj ne hiyja?!_ What the hell was that?!" Started Zell. He had skidded along the rough floor of the plaza, and one side of his face was nearly skinned. His blood had mingled with the sorted blood of the puréed soldiers.

Seth was close to him, he had been blown into a wall, but thankfully, not as hard as Irvine. "That place had been rumoured to hold Galbadian armourments in their basement." He winced as he sat up, holding onto the shoulder that had taken the blow. "Another faction probably planted a bomb there as a warning." Feeling the jutting bone under his clothes, it was not hard to guess that the shoulder was not only dislocated, but broken as well.

Zell lifted a hand to touch Seth's shoulder. "_Haju._" The scraping wound healed itself, but the pain that said it was still broken hung around. "Be careful, 'cure's can heal flesh wounds, but bones are another story." He, then, cast the same curative spell on himself. The skin grew back on his face, but not without leaving a few scars.

As the rest got up, they assumed the one who had taken the worst damage was the body of Rind. It had hit timbers, and a wooden steak was driven through its neck. This was the assumption, until they saw what happened to Zone.

Angelo was the first to notice him. Rinoa fallowed the attention of her dog, seeing his upper body sticking out from under the Black Widow.

"ZONE!" Constantly sliding on the blood, she rushed to his aid. Fallowing closely was Selphie, Brix, Andy, Watts, Mordechai; the rest fallowed. The Black Widow had landed on Zone's lower body and waist. He was gagging badly, spitting out whatever fluid was left in his body. Rinoa crouched down beside him.

"Zone…" She spoke more softly.

He hacked up some more blood. "…Ri…Rim…_Rhhmno_…" His gagging made hard his wording.

She had known him for as long as she had been in Timber. Of coarse, he had not been the leader of their resistance at that time. Her fondness of him, and her own naive confindence believed that the odds were with him that they would all be there to see the liberation of Timber. Now, he was dying. There was nothing that she could do, no magic could heal his wounds, but still…

Digging her fingers under what she could of the Black Widow, she called to Selphie. "Selphie, come help me here!". The SeeD came obediently, gripping the underside of the machine. Together, they began to lift the brutish metal up. The strength granted them by their own Guardian Forces was great, Selphie's especially, as she had the strength of Ifrit junctioned for so long. Still, they struggled with the immense weight of the broken contraption while Zone faded underneath them. Not needing any orders, Quistis started to lift the great load from the other side of the dying boy. She got her strength from two sources, mainly from another Guardian Force Bahamut, a favorite of Squall. Her help was greatly appreciated, but the job still wasn't easy.

"Dammit!" Cursed the blonde. "What the hell is this thing made of? Lead?"

They finally lifted the Black Widow up high enough for Zone to be pulled out. Several inches out of the grasp of the mechanical arachnid, the girls let the heavy chunk of metal drop.

Panting and gasping for air, Quistis turned to Irvine and Zell, who stood by dumbfounded. "Well, thank you for helping boys." She snapped sarcastically.

"We, um," Irvine started sheepishly, "don't have any GF's that enhance strength."

"Like Chicken Wuss would be of any help?!" Taunted a forgotten Seifer. He lay sprawled out before a mass of timbers and cloth.

Zell took one look at him and began to chuckle. "You broke your back. Didn't you?"

"Shut up!"

Out of nowhere, Selphie's gigantic smile stuck out in front of his vision. "Aww, do you need some help?" Seifer was not happy to see her at all. Without his discretion, she cast a strong spell of mending magic on him. He could hear the reassuring snap of his back knitting itself together. Seifer jumped up, not noticing that his back only slightly askew broken. He ended up tumbling backwards into a rubble pile and wood.

"Whoah, easy there!" Selphie continued. "That back should take it slow for, at least, six weeks. Lest, it break again."

Zone lay before the feet of his loyal band of rebels, but he was too weak to say anything. The wounds he had sustained were gut wrenching to look at. Watts begged Rinoa to do something, but she knew that, even if she did know more about her own abilities, she could do nothing.

"Who would have planted a bomb like that?" Questioned Red Hawk, still looking down at his fallen leader.

"I can tell you who it wasn't." Brine suggested, "it wasn't the Galbadians, they usually bomb from the air."

"It had to be another resistance faction." Rinoa suggested shakily. "Anyone of them would have had access to explosives." Several of the other members were ready to deny the carelessness of their own people, when a shout from above broke in.

"Yo! Everybody okay, ya know?!" Raijin shouted in Balambese from the top of the stairs. Fujin was right behind them, holding the reins of a diligent Sly, and the Moomba were already making their way downward. Only small Deacon seamed intimidated by the blood, it took a firm shoving by Cardinal to get him moving.

Irvine whispered to Zell. "This is just what we need. The company of the Three Amigos."

The three Moomba went straight to Rinoa, who was confused enough without the appearance of foreign creatures. Raijin and Fujin went straight towards Seifer.

"Oh man! Your alive!" Boomed Raijin. "We saw the explosion, and thought you were in it, ya know!"

"I was! You idiot!" Barked an irritated Seifer.

"Yeah," Zell piped in, "he even broke his back."

"Shove it, Chicken Wuss!"

"SOMEONE RAN!" Fujin squawked.

"Yeah," her foster brother explained, "we saw some girl run away. She looked like she needed a new dress, too."

Along with several Owls, Rinoa looked up from where she crouched over Zone. "You saw Squall? Where was he heading?" The Moomba around her started squeaking. Bishop tugged at her hand, pointing furiously towards the direction he saw Squall run. It was in the area of the rail station, she had no idea if any trains were scheduled to go through.

As he attempted to get the wobbly feeling out of his back, Seifer caught the glimmering shimmer of Perish in the blood.

Irvine kicked some of the rotting mulch and blood at his feet, getting some disgusted looks from the Owls and Rinoa. "So, like, what's the deal with this stuff here. What kind of fight were you guys in?"

"It was that monster that came out of nowhere!" Started Seth. "It took up all the soldiers and…puréed them!"

"'Twas some kind of Guardian Force." Clarified Selphie, not as stressed as Seth sounded. "I think it came with Squall."

Quistis was surprised at the news. "Squall doesn't have a Guardian Force." _Oops, said too much._

"Since when did Squall not have a Guardian Force?" Questioned Zell.

"Well…we took then away, 'cuz he was getting ornary and stuff. And we all thought he should have a little less power."

"Cool. So you can take away people's Guardian Forces?"

"Sure, just draw them out when they're unconscious." Quistis leaned forward to whisper something to Zell, hopeful that Seifer couldn't hear her. "And it also helps if that particular person is a little on the meek side. Don't say that out loud."

"What?" Zell blurted. "That's Squall's missn' most of his blood?"

Seifer snapped to attention at the mention of Squall's ailment. "I knew it! I knew Leonhart had something missing besides his mind!" He stumbled forward with Perish in hand, looking down at Zone's mangled body. "What's wrong here?"

"He's dead Seifer." Snapped Rinoa, not impressed with his apathetic attitude.

"Well then, why you all sitting around him like Neanderthals? Scrape him together." With Perish, he began to poke and prod the body, more in amusement then anything. The Owls looked at him with disgust, a couple of them even cursed at him in Mainstream. It was Rinoa who got to her feet and shoved him aside.

"Stop that! This isn't Balamb! Not just anyone can handle a dead body!"

More of the Forest Owls started to curse at him, even standing up and confronting him. While everyone was intent on telling Seifer off for just how negligent he was of the dead, Irvine knelt down beside the newly deseised Zone. His sniper eye fixing on something that was shining from his partially exposed gut. Horrid as the smell and sight was, Irvine put his hand in, taking out a shiny, purple crystal. He looked it over, the cleavege was mixed between smooth and bristly, like a salt crystal. The edges were a bit darker then the middle, giving a sort of atristic glass look. Secretly, he put the crystal in a side pocket.

Out of the commotion, the three Moomba stepped, meeping hard enough to get Rinoa's attention. She heard them, looked down at them, trying to understand what they were trying to say.

From the motions of their hands, and the fact that they were inching away from her, she had to say they wanted her to fallow. Motioning to Angelo, she separated herself from the mob. The three Moomba ran into the nearby railway station. All tracks were deserted but one. The fast Moomba ducked into one of the cars, obviously a cargo car. With the platforms completely deserted for the moment, dog and Sorceress jumped aboard the car. The Moomba were waiting for her, Deacon, in particular, was very excited, he had to be calmed down by Bishop.

Cardinal was sitting on top of a huge crate labelled **EXPLOSIVES: HANDLE WITH CARE**. She edged closer, peering behind the crate. Her breath caught in her lungs as she pulled herself away. Squall was right behind that crate, and she hadn't the foggiest as to what to say.

Jumping off of the crate, the She-moomba started to squeak and pat her giant paws on the young man's knee. His attention caught, Squall looked up, eyes glassy and uncertain looking to make of her mime act. Rinoa only peeked from behind the crate, daring to hear just how Squall would have communicated with the Moomba, and maybe even catch just why the three of them wanted her there. Angelo felt indifferent, not hiding, but merely stepping lightly up beside her misstress, wondering what she was attempting.

We brought sorceress. You talk. Be good for you. Mimed Cardinal.

Squall gave the furry critter a sceptical glance. "You remind me of a very hairy Quistis."

Cardinal growled at him. Don't mock. Fear no sorceress. She will help well.

He understood the Moomba well. It was fortunate, and creepy, that he had caught onto the Moomba's style of communication fast. So fast, it almost felt to Squall that he could hear them verbalize. Truly, they were odd specimens, more mystic then anyone but the Shumi had given them credit for.

_What are you getting at?_ He thought even more sceptically.

At hearing his voice, Angelo started to bark happily. She had no idea why Rinoa was not fallowing, but she did not care. Bounding forward, she started giving Squall sloppy dog kisses all over his face.

Not expecting the leap, he was knocked onto his side, laughing uncontrollably as Angelo continued to slobber all over him, unintentionaly licking off the blood. Cardinal didn't see the advance either, and all she could do was look down at the two as if she had never seen a dog before.

"Down boy!" Squall giggled. "Sit." He flailed his arms around, turning onto his back with the dog still licking his cheek. Never seeing the move coming as well, Rinoa had to chuckle. Squall had taken to Angelo long before he had taken to her. She guessed it was because Angelo couldn't talk back, or judge him in the first place, something she had a knack for doing.

It was just simple habit that also had her come out of hiding and call back her dog. "C'mon Angelo, down girl!" Responding to the voice of her mistress, she leapt off of Squall, barking out her content in seeing two recognizable faces.

_Oh crap. Now what do I do?_ It was too late for Rinoa to call back her own actions. She had already been seen by all present, and still, she hadn't a clue as to what she would say to Squall.

Squall felt the same way, but his motive rode simply on stealth, so he had no choice. "Hey Rinoa, I found your dog." Well, that worked itself out nicely. Attempting to get up to his feet, he met troubles when getting onto his right side, his bad leg had just felt like he had stuck it in a sub zero pond. Regarding the feeling, he settled to just sitting up. Rinoa noticed the Shumi dressing on his wound, wondering if Squall had taken apart a perfectly good pair of silk pajamas to mend it or what? Tenderly, Squall rubbed the gaudy gauze. Rinoa bent down merely to inspect it.

_It's just a flesh wound he knows that I know he has. What harm can come from it?_ She reasoned. _It still looks painful._ Squall did not hesitate to let her simply touch the maimed shin. Though, as soon as her fingers came within contact of the bandage, the tips of her digits received a nasty shock.

She withdrew the hand in reaction. "Dammit! That's one vicious bite!" The shock she had received was not simple static. Looking at her fingers, they were smoking slightly, and Rinoa suckled on each on of her fried fingers.

"It zapped you probably because you're a sorceress." Squall explained bluntly, only his wide open eyes told her he had any inkling of caring. By all, he was grateful that Rinoa didn't start off with a million and one questions, such as: why are your eyes so milky?

"Probably?" The girl took her fingers out of her mouth to ask the question. "Squall, what the hell do you know that I don't?!"

_Oops, got my hopes up._

Squall sat still for several inching moments, his knees tucked in and his arms around them as he rocked gently back and forth, his gaze turned to the wooden floor. As Rinoa held her fingers in her mouth, she looked inconspicuously at Squall's thinning, sickly pale complexion, eyes swimming with their own gore, circled by a moat of darkening skin. His fingernails were a bit longer then she had imagined, with fingers that looked quite wrinkled and blistered.

To combat any weird assumptions, she asked him: "So...these moombas came with you?"

"They didn't come with me." Explained Squall, looking at her with his milky eyes, "I came with them, so it seems. And they are not moombas, they are Moomba. With a capital, as a name."

"Moomba." Rinoa repeated. "You've spent more time with the Shumi then I've been told."

"Whatever." He snorted. "I was in the jungle in Monterosa, I met a camp of Shumi there. They were studying a junction."

"So, the Shumi study Guardian Forces as well?"

"Not a simple junction," explained Squall sternly, getting a flinch from Rinoa. "a primal junction, the way they were in the begining. You see. Shumi have a theory that magic, both para and true, have descended, or ascended, from somewhere beyond the universe via some sort of cosmic portal. They also theorize that this portal had closed long ago because of Harple's Law, they also say that Guardian Forces came out of this same portal. The phoenixen were the first to use them millions of years ago, since they are remnents of a time when our world was just a ball of molten rock."

Rinoa sat there, taking it all in with such interest. "Wow. Did you raid a library, or did the Shumi just tell you this outright?"

"Either would have been less painful. They tried to kill me with a drug they call _T'nikupi_, a substance used to help a dying Shumi evolve. It should have killed me, but it didn't. Instead, it gave me the old knowledge of the Shumi line, that includes the Moomba, the Kitu, and so forth. I even know their language." He motioned to Deacon, who puffed his chest out with pride. "This is Kná'tná, it loosly means 'Deacon'." He motioned to Cardinal, who gave Rinoa a wave and a squeak. "This is Landu, it means 'Cardinal'." He turned his hand towards Bishop, who gave a dignified nod. "This is Janangk, it means 'Bishop'."

"Funny," Started Rinoa, "I never got the impression that the 'Moomba' were given names."

"They never make anything obvious. It was them who fashioned for me a new gunblade, made from kaespien, a hilt of spruce wood with a red tinge, held fast with bronze braces. On the end was a pendent of opal, carved of a sturgeon. I don't know why they signified a fish, I guess it's because strugeons are cool."

"That sounds like the gunblade Seifer has."

"That IS the same gunblade! Seifer took one look at it and decided it should be his. Greedy bastard chicken. Anything that isn't given to him, he takes with force. Not that it would do him good anyway, he will never wield it properly. I could be dying and still raise hell with that weapon. It will be no more use to anyone else but a big rock club, he can't even wound me with that thing. The glyphs state specifically: "I abide by the word and form of the blood of Wabisi and no other. I draw the blood of the child, I shall melt and decay. I break their bones, I shall shatter into countless. Wabisi, being the name the Shumi gave Laguna."

_Laguna!_ Rinoa pirked up her head, her eyes wide. "Are you talking about Prime Minister Laguna Loire? Of Esthar?"

To her relief, Squall gave a playfull chuckle. "Yeah, can you believe it? My old man was right in front of my nose and never knew untill a Shumi woman told me."

"You have a father?" Started she, not knowing what to think of such news. "Squall...that's wonderful. How are you taking that..." She heard the jumbling of more voices from behind.

The whole car around them started to shudder at the pounding of so many feet edging to get on.

Out of nowhere, or so it seamed, Watts appeared. "Hey Rinoa, we gotta stay here for awhile."

"Here?" She quirked an eyebrow. "As in, this train? Don't tell me you brought everybody!"

"Yeah, pretty much so. Andy took up a fight, but the Galb soldiers were coming, so we all came here."

As to confirm what he said, Irvine walked by, waving at Rinoa, followed by several other Forest Owls.

"See, Rinoa," Watts continued. "Even Squirm is here." He pointed down at a highly annoyed Squall, sitting down and leaning against the support of his arms.

"It's Squall you cheek freak." He hissed.

Rinoa defended Watts. "Now, is that any way to talk to your client?"

"I'm not on duty, so don't expect me to be nice."

The car got quite crowded, quite fast. By habit, Squall scooted himself into a corner of crates. Cloak was getting onto his back, and he became very tempted to call Strychnine out again, clearing the entire car.

"_C'mon, what's stopping you?"_ Cloak egged.

"I…" _What is stopping me?_ Squall asked himself. "…Rinoa." The car had become too crowded, and everyone started talking. It was unnerving, realizing that anyone could hear them and just kick them out.

Out of the jumble of several people in front of him, Selphie shoved her way out of the crowed, looking down at Squall with a teasing smile that would have the effect of scaring him anytime he wasn't blind.

"Awk, Squall. I had no idea that ball I gave you was a Guardian Force."


End file.
